


the darkness will rise from the deep (and carry you down into sleep)

by collegefangirl3791, skywalking-across-the-galaxy (BadWolfGirl01)



Series: lullabies [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: "if i call her Commander Tano they'll go away", Accidental Cuddling, Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, BAMF Ahsoka Tano, Canon Temporary Character Death, Clone Wars, Denial of Feelings, Dubious Morality, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Episode: s03e15 Overlords, Episode: s03e16 Altar of Mortis, Episode: s03e17 Ghosts of Mortis, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Force Visions, Force-healing, Glacially Slow Burn, Headaches & Migraines, Heavy Angst, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Injury, Literal Sleeping Together, Major Character Injury, Manipulation, Mind Control, Mortis (Star Wars), Mutual Pining, Mutually Unrequited, Nightmares, Obi-Wan Needs a Hug, Oops, Order 66, Pining, Possession, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Requited Unrequited Love, Self-Sacrifice, Sexual Harassment, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Kisses, Slow Burn, Staring, Temporary Character Death, Temporary Force-sensitivity, The Dark Side of the Force, The Force, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, of a sort, the Son is an ass, you know the one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-21 04:10:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 36,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14908071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collegefangirl3791/pseuds/collegefangirl3791, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadWolfGirl01/pseuds/skywalking-across-the-galaxy
Summary: And Rex turns his head, locks eyes with her, raises one eyebrow, a sardonic little smirk hovering on the corner of his mouth, and she flushes dark sienna and looks away, quickly. (This is… the fourth? or fifth? time he’s caught her staring this trip. But it’s not like anyone could blame her, they aren’t usually in this close--proximity to each other, she just… he’s just… it’s… well.)The scanner beeps, startling her (and she’s pretty sure she hears Rex snort, but she’s not listening specifically for him, nope), and Ahsoka glances down at it. Has to take a second to remember what she’s supposed to be looking for. Right, the rendezvous. “Uh,” and she clears her throat, tries to force away the heat in her cheeks, “we’re at the rendezvous point, but I’m not picking up anything on the scanners.”“General Skywalker, do you read me?” Commander Cody’s voice crackles over the comms, static-laced for all that the small blue-glowing holo of him is perfectly clear.[or: Mortis, if Rex came along.]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from "Mordred's Lullaby"  
>  _Hush, child, the darkness will rise from the deep_  
>  And carry you down into sleep  
> Child, the darkness will rise from the deep  
> And carry you down into sleep
> 
> yep, here we are with _another_ Rexsoka fic... we're working on wrapping up _these battle scars_ but were too excited to hold off on writing this one! please leave a comment and let us know what you think!

The shuttle is almost too small for four people.

Ahsoka sighs, staring out the transparisteel window, bracing her elbow on the durasteel ledge over the scanner and leaning her head into her hand. With Anakin on the comms and Master Obi-Wan flying the shuttle, there’s very little for her to  _ do _ until they reach the rendezvous point.

At least she  _ has _ a job, unlike the fourth member of their small strike team.

Captain Rex sits on the second fold-out seat, behind Master Obi-Wan, his bucket on the floor between his boots, one hand idly dismantling and rebuilding one blaster, the other tapping a rhythm onto the wall of the ship. He doesn’t even have a  _ scanner _ to occupy him, and he’s also seemed… oddly  _ reticent _ about this whole thing, like he isn’t really sure he wants to be here. Ahsoka doesn’t blame him. This is  _ definitely _ a Jedi thing, and he’s  _ got _ to feel out of place here. She glances sidelong at him (tries not to be too obvious about it), studies his profile for a minute, fierce golden eyes (though right now he looks more…  _ bored _ than anything else, there’s still an  _ intensity _ to him, like a storm trapped inside human skin) and short blond hair (that she  _ really _ shouldn’t be so curious about the  _ feel _ of) and--

And Rex turns his head, locks eyes with her, raises one eyebrow, a sardonic little smirk hovering on the corner of his mouth, and she flushes dark sienna and looks away, quickly. (This is… the fourth? or fifth? time he’s caught her staring  _ this trip. _ But it’s not like anyone could  _ blame her, _ they aren’t usually in this close--proximity to each other, she just… he’s just… it’s… well.)

The scanner beeps, startling her (and she’s  _ pretty sure _ she hears Rex snort, but she’s not listening specifically for him, nope), and Ahsoka glances down at it. Has to take a second to remember what she’s supposed to be looking for. Right, the rendezvous. “Uh,” and she clears her throat, tries to force away the heat in her cheeks, “we’re at the rendezvous point, but I’m not picking up anything on the scanners.”

_ “General Skywalker, do you read me?” _ Commander Cody’s voice crackles over the comms, static-laced for all that the small blue-glowing holo of him is perfectly clear. 

“Reading you loud and clear, Cody. We’re at the rendezvous, but there’s no sign of the  _ Negotiator,” _ Anakin says, and she doesn’t need to see his face to know he’s frowning. Anakin doesn’t  _ like _ mysteries. He likes to know all the answers. All the time. It’s actually  _ really irritating. _

_ “We’re at the rendezvous, sir,” _ Cody says, shakes his head a little.  _ “Where are you?” _

The scanner blips, and Ahsoka frowns (what the  _ kriff _ is that sound supposed to mean?), smacks the machine with one hand. It’s saying there’s a  _ planet-sized mass _ in front of them, which is  _ patently _ untrue, because she just kriffing  _ looked up there-- _ and then the  _ entire ship, _ life supports included, goes dark. Dead. They’re dead in  _ space. _

And then  _ everything _ kicks back on again, though the scanner is still saying there’s a  _ planet _ in front of them, the stupid thing--

“General,” Rex says, slowly, “what the kriff?”

All three Jedi, Ahsoka included, look up through the main viewscreen, at--

“Well,  _ kriff,” _ she breathes, “the karking thing was right after all.”

It’s a planet.

The weirdest one she’s ever  _ seen _ before, for sure, diamond-shaped and so dark it’s barely indistinguishable from the space surrounding it; there’s what looks to be a  _ crack _ around its equator, a faint white light emitting from  _ within the planet. _ Almost as soon as Ahsoka notices this, the planet starts to  _ spin, _ the northern half spinning opposite from the southern half, the crack growing  _ larger, _ the light brighter, until it stabs her eyes and she  _ has _ to lift her hand to shield them--the comms crackle and go dead, the signal lost, and Anakin swears in Huttese.

“Everyone, strap yourselves in,” Obi-Wan says, somehow sounding calmly sarcastic even in the face of possibly life-threatening danger (she doesn’t  _ get _ how he manages it, it’s like some Jedi Master superpower). “It looks like we’re going for a ride.”

The shuttle is pulled in towards the crack (almost like there’s a tractor beam), and Ahsoka fumbles with the retractable harness attached to the shuttle’s ceiling--except it’s  _ stuck, _ and she swears under her breath and gets to her feet, reaches for the harness and tugs on it.

“Snips, sit  _ down,” _ Anakin snaps out, “we have no  _ idea _ what’s going to happen,” but she ignores him. Because it’s not like she  _ intends _ to just stay standing, but she needs to get the damn  _ harness _ down.

She gives it another  _ hard _ yank, swears at it with a Mando’a insult she’d overheard Fives using the other day (and from the other side of the shuttle, Rex  _ chokes), _ which… unfortunately doesn’t change the harness’s apparently unhappy attitude about life.  _ “Kriff!” _

“Here, Commander,” Rex says, and she looks away from the  _ very _ grumpy emergency harness to see him starting to undo his straps. “Use this one--”

The shuttle  _ bucks, _ suddenly, the white light reaching out and  _ grabbing _ it like some massive, clawed hand, flinging Ahsoka across the cockpit.

She’s unconscious before she ever hits anything.

~~~

Nothing hurts. Rex thinks something should probably hurt. But other than being a bit askew in his seat and there being a weight across his upper legs, he  _ thinks _ he’s fine, so he shifts and opens his eyes, just as General Kenobi says, “We seem to have been knocked unconscious.”

_ A very helpful statement, General - What the everloving kriff? _

He snorts, because the weight on his legs is Commander Tano, also just waking up. He takes her shoulder, helps her up off his lap, and stands. “Commander, when I said you could use my harness, that was  _ not _ what I had in mind.”

She gives him a peeved look and hurries forward to lean against the back of General Skywalker’s seat - who is also only just waking up. The ship seems in good shape from what he can see, which would mean they didn’t crash, but here they are all unconscious. Rex doesn’t feel good about this.

“Who piloted our landing?” General Kenobi asks, tapping the screens of a few of their scanners. “Because it certainly wasn’t me.”

“Wasn’t me,” Skywalker says, frowning.

Rex knows for sure it wasn’t him or Commander Tano, which she explains to the Generals. Which means they landed safe in their shuttle with no pilot.

If Rex had to guess, he’d say it was a tractor beam, which doesn’t exactly bode well. Kenobi has the scanners working, gives the results a skeptical look. “I’m picking up indications that the planet has some form of sentience - and the Force is very strong here.”

“I don’t even know where we are,” Skywalker says. Which is kriffing  _ great _ . “The scanners don’t even seem to know if we’re in the known galaxy.”

Even kriffing better. Rex finds his bucket tilted against a wall of the ship, jams it back on his head.

“I suppose we should go have a look around,” Kenobi says, checking a few more of the scanners. “I can’t pick up the distress signal again.”

“Sounds like fun.” Skywalker never hesitates once he decides on a course of action, and today is no exception - this is not the ideal situation to be rushing into things, but Rex sighs and follows Skywalker to the bay door of the shuttle, quickly appraising his Commander to make sure she’s alright. She seems fine.

When they step outside, for a moment the sunlight is so bright that Rex can’t make anything out, beyond vague shapes and blue sky and green life everywhere. He blinks, squints, and focuses; it looks like a pretty average planet: couple aerial islands, mountains, trees. He rests his hands on his DCs, because something feels  _ off _ to him, still, somehow  _ not right _ . He doesn’t plan on letting his guard down, however normal this place looks.

~~~

Ahsoka has had many headaches in her life (the worst, and most persistent, of them being Anakin Skywalker). The headache she can  _ feel _ building as she steps down the ramp and out onto the grass threatens to turn into a migraine. Which is just  _ fabulous. _

She looks out over the canyons, towards the mountains, curious, appraising; a light flashes from somewhere and she frowns, squints at it. “Did you see that?”

“I didn’t see anything,” Master Obi-Wan says, lowering his macrobinoculars and frowning, running one hand contemplatively over his beard. There’s a sense of confusion echoing from him, mixed with  _ fascination, _ and she can almost  _ see _ the wheels turning in his brain. Anakin may not like mysteries, but Master Obi-Wan  _ loves _ them.

There’s a tangled knot of emotions emanating from Rex, and Ahsoka frowns at him, asks, “Are you alright, Rex?”

“Fine, sir,” he says, but he sounds almost  _ distracted, _ even through his helmet, and she frowns more, wishing she could see his face. Because he doesn’t  _ feel _ fine.

She opens her mouth to press further, but before she can say anything, Anakin goes, “What? Did you  _ hear _ that?”

“Hear what, Master?”

He just shakes his head, frowning and looking around, and then--

_ “Are you the One?” _

The words seem to  _ echo, _ around and around and around in Ahsoka’s head, and she turns to see a--woman, of sorts,  _ glowing _ with an inner radiance, and the Force shines like a  _ supernova _ around her, awingly powerful and intense and  _ warm, _ and it’s all Ahsoka can do to keep herself from  _ kneeling _ on instinct. “Who  _ are _ you?” she breathes, staring. The light--and Light--is so bright it’s hard to pick out individual details, at first, though it dims enough to discern hair the color of the trees, eyes like spring grass, ivory skin and a pale golden dress. All intent and focused entirely on Anakin.

_ “I am Daughter. Are you the One?” _

~~~

When the  _ glowing _ woman appears out of nowhere, Rex takes a few fast steps back and draws his blaster pistols, a little disgruntled at the fact that none of the Jedi seem inclined to follow suit and go for their sabers. The woman pays him absolutely no mind, and neither do the Generals, for that matter.

It is hard, harder than it should be, to hold his blasters steady. He’s getting a headache, building at the back of his head, behind his eyes (he must have hit his head in their landing, kriff), and he feels a bit like he wants to crawl out of his skin, like he’s too hot and too tense.

“ _ I am Daughter. Are you the One? _ ” the woman says, and Commander Tano and General Kenobi are awed. Skywalker, he thinks, is a little more bewildered than they are. Mostly because the woman - the Daughter? - is addressing him. How does he  _ know that? _

“‘The one’ what?” his General says, frowning.

A good question. Rex has a few he could ask. Like  _ what the kriff _ . He tentatively lowers his blasters, doesn’t holster them again though.

_ Gods,  _ his head hurts. He feels off-balance, a little shaky - strange. Adrenaline, probably. Maybe he  _ did _ hit his head - and harder than he thought.

The Daughter suddenly twists, and looks away from them, and Rex tenses. “ _ I will take you to him. There is not much time. Follow me. You must have a place to shelter before it is dark.” _

“All due respect, General,” Rex says to Skywalker, quietly, “but I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

Kenobi smirks, shrugs - the Daughter has already begun to walk away. She looks like she’s floating, her hair moving in a breeze that Rex does not feel. “We should be fine as long as we stay together.”

Rex has often found that to be easier said than done - and he winces, his headache stabbing worse for a moment. He wishes Kix were here with pain meds; Rex has bandages in his utility belt and some other supplies in his pack, but nothing for a headache.

Of course, his Generals just start after the glowing lady despite the terrible risk it is. (Except something tells him this woman is fairly  _ safe _ and he doesn't know  _ why he thinks that _ .) Because that’s  _ apparently _ the best course of action they have, to follow someone that calls themselves “Daughter” on a strange planet after receiving a two-thousand-year-old Jedi distress call to meet “him.” Who the kriff even is  _ him? _ Also, just because she says they need shelter before it’s dark doesn’t mean they have to take her word for it. He doesn’t wanna do this.

But it isn’t up to him. Still, he’s not holstering his weapons yet. (Although it’s a little hard to hang onto them, he feels too jittery and restless, keeps shifting his grip on them.)

~~~

They walk for what seems like  _ ages, _ though Ahsoka’s wrist-chrono (synced to the  _ Resolute’s _ shiptime) shows it’s only about two hours, along a winding cliffside path, the Daughter an ethereal figure at their head, before anyone asks any more questions.

Predictably, the first person to finally speak up about the  _ weirdness _ of this planet is Master Obi-Wan. “Have you noticed how the seasons seem to be changing with the time of day?” he asks, sounds utterly  _ fascinated. _

“Yeah, Master,” Anakin says, flatly. “We’ve noticed.”

Normally, Ahsoka would laugh at the affronted look on Obi-Wan’s face, but her headache has  _ indeed _ blossomed into a full-blown migraine, and every step sends  _ agony _ shooting through her skull, nausea swirling in the pit of her stomach and vertigo in her bones, making it hard just to stay  _ upright. _ She keeps instinctively reaching for the Force to dull the pain, but the Force just  _ roars _ over her whenever she tries, and that makes the headache  _ worse. _

Kriff this kriffing planet.

“So who exactly are you taking us to see?” Obi-Wan ventures, as they cross some invisible line (and pain sparks across her skin for a moment, like a cloud of electricity) and the foliage turns copper-red-gold-brown.

The Daughter doesn’t stop walking when she says,  _ “The Father, of course.” _

And despite the stabbing pain in her head, Ahsoka manages to roll her eyes and mutter out through gritted teeth, “Oh, of  _ course.” _

“And who exactly are you?” Obi-Wan tries, which gets them an even _ better _ answer:

_ “We are the Ones who guard the Power. We are the Beginning, the Middle, and the End.” _

“I’m glad we cleared that up,” Anakin huffs.

Something  _ rumbles. _

There’s a crash of sound, Anakin launches forward and  _ tackles _ the Daughter, and Ahsoka’s instincts stop her  _ dead _ just before a tumble of rocks and dirt comes thundering down onto the path. A rock hits her side hard enough to bruise, and she  _ staggers _ (and her head is screaming  _ this is too much) _ and then her foot catches on a tuft of grass and she pitches sideways off the ledge with a muffled yelp, her fingers  _ just _ barely managing to catch a sharp piece of protruding rock. The edges of it cut into her hand, and the strain makes her shoulder ache, and she swings back and smacks into the rocky cliff hard enough to knock the air out of her lungs, but she’s  _ not falling. _

But  _ Force, _ her head hurts.

~~~

The avalanche sends Rex stumbling, almost slipping partway back down the path, except he braces himself against the rocky mountain face - and isn’t close enough to catch Commander Tano as she tumbles off the ledge. For just a split second, panic and adrenaline surge heady enough to let him stride forward fast and easy without support, ignoring his headache and the way it feels like there’s electricity shivering over his skin. He can’t get to her at all fast enough, but she catches herself, scrabbles at the stone and tries to haul herself up.

She can’t, and that’s not good. Not normal. Rex has noticed she’s in pain (although he still isn’t sure how he knows, because she's been moving normally, but he does), but she should be able to get herself back on the path. Before he can worry about it much, though, and go get her, Kenobi takes hold of her forearm and pulls her easily back up. General Skywalker is nowhere in sight. Rex sighs and makes himself straighten his shoulders and walk over toward them - and Ahsoka presses one hand to her head, above her eyes, and carefully sets her other hand against the rock, leans into it.

Not good, not good. Rex speeds up a little (which is a mistake, hurts) and comes up behind Kenobi.

“Sorry, I’m- It’s just my  _ head _ ,” Ahsoka says, sounding a little strained.

Kenobi frowns, puts his hand on Ahsoka’s shoulder and meets her eyes. Rex doesn’t know Kenobi  _ well _ , per se, but he is familiar with that expression nonetheless. He thinks Kenobi has the situation under control. He doesn’t mean to let it, but his mind wanders a little, and he has to put effort into pulling his focus back. It’s just, he keeps thinking something is wrong, something’s… He doesn’t know. Something is telling him  _ wrong, wrong, wrong, this is all wrong. _ And he  _ hurts _ .

“All I said was we should stay together,” Kenobi says wryly. “Why did I think that would be simple?” He taps his wristcomm, says “Anakin, do you read me?”

“ _ Yeah, Master, I hear you. _ ”

Kenobi is relieved, nods and gives Commander Tano a smile. “I don’t think we can reach you, Anakin,” and he eyes the tumbled pile of rock appraisingly.

Maybe with effort they could get past it, but it’s effort that Rex really doesn’t think he can manage. Maybe if he has to.

“We could use the Force,” Commander Tano says, smiling a little, like she thinks someone should have thought of that already. She turns, holds out a hand toward the rockslide, and Rex sees her cringe and feels a spark of pain jitter over his skin ( _ gods _ he needs to sit down, figure out what the kriff is wrong with him before they try to deal with any more of this shit). “Okay, maybe not. That hurt.” She sounds like she’s trying to be cheerful, but Rex knows her too well not to be concerned.

“ _ You three should go back to the ship _ .” Skywalker’s voice comes back over the comm, and it’s kind of a relief to hear his voice. “ _ I’m gonna follow her _ .”

What a kriffing  _ great idea _ . Rex sighs, but really they don’t have a lot of options. He doesn’t like this, it doesn’t feel good.  _ He _ doesn’t feel good, he needs sleep and meds and water, so maybe going back to the ship is for the best.

~~~

By the time they make it back to where they’d left the ship, the storm clouds have sealed off the sky and there’s rain starting to  _ pour _ down--within minutes, Ahsoka’s soaked to the skin and shivering, her arms wrapped tightly around herself in an attempt to conserve what little body heat she  _ can. _ Her head is still pounding, like someone’s shoving a vibroblade repeatedly into her skull, right between her eyes, and she clenches her jaw and hugs herself tighter and stares at her feet. Right now, she doesn’t trust herself  _ not _ to trip and fall.

She doesn’t think Rex is doing well, either, but she’s not sure  _ why, _ what it is that’s got her head  _ hurting _ so much, and there’s foreboding strange and heavy in her gut. 

She has a  _ bad _ feeling about this.

She shivers again, harder, and Obi-Wan steps up next to her, wraps an arm around her shoulders and tucks her against his side, against his sopping tunic. Which, even though it’s wet, is at least  _ mildly _ warmer than nothing, and she sighs gratefully, leans into a him a bit. She’s just… a little dizzy, that’s all. And her head hurts. A lot. Almost enough that she’s considering suggesting they just… sit down and not do much of anything.

“Are you alright, Ahsoka?” Obi-Wan asks, concerned.

“Yeah,” she manages, shivers again. “‘S just my head.”

“Hmm,” he says, noncommittal, and she frowns a little.

And then they round a corner, back to the courtyard their ship had landed in, except--the ship is  _ gone. _ “The ship is gone,” she says, blinking. “But it was  _ here.” _

“It isn’t anymore,” Obi-Wan says, a bit sharp, a bit concerned, and she huffs, because  _ duh. _

“Look,” she says, pushes herself away from Obi-Wan’s side just enough to point to the crumpling plants. “Everything’s dying.”

“Did you  _ lose something?” _

The voice is velvet and steel and shadow, silken and laughing, and Ahsoka  _ whirls _ (and then staggers, stumbling into Obi-Wan’s side again as the world spins). There’s a tall figure, a man of sorts, all Darkness and smoke and shadow and whispering laughter on the wind, pale-skinned with bloodred smeared down his cheeks, wearing an ebony parody of Jedi armor, with eyes like glowing coals. “You didn’t do as you were asked,” he murmurs, oh-so-soft and dangerous.

Ahsoka shivers again, but it’s not from cold as much this time as it is from  _ fear. _ (Because she’s in no condition to handle this, not right now, not with her head throbbing and her hands shaking so hard she’s not sure she can hold her ‘sabers steady.) Rex steps up behind her, at her shoulder, and that helps; his presence has always been a comfort.

“And what was that?” Obi-Wan asks, archly, but his arm tightens around Ahsoka’s shoulders.

“My sister said to  _ wait.” _

“Did she now?” Obi-Wan is  _ tense. _ “We were unfortunately separated.” There’s a pause, in which the Darkness in front of them just frowns, and then the Jedi Master speaks again. “We’d like our ship back, if you don’t mind.”

**_“Not yet,”_ ** the… person… snarls, eyes  _ flaring. _ And then he breathes, settles. “Is it  _ true _ that he is the Chosen One?”

Dizzy and aching and exhausted she may be, but Ahsoka still jerks away from Obi-Wan’s side, snaps out both ‘sabers and shifts into the opening stance, holds the tip of her green ‘saber aimed directly at the man’s throat. Obi-Wan has his own ‘saber out, too, glowing vivid blue in her vision, and his voice is low and threatening when he asks, “What do you know of such things?”

The Dark storm inside a man’s skin stretches tall, says, snarling,  _ “What is about to happen shall occur-- _ whether you  _ like it _ or  _ not,” _ and he casually, carelessly passes one hand through the air in front of him.

And Ahsoka watches in sick horror as her ‘saber blades just--slide back into the casings, just--shutting off, like it’s nothing. How? It doesn’t make  _ sense, _ that should be  _ impossible! _

“You’re  _ Sith!” _ Obi-Wan snaps, points one finger accusingly at the  _ thing. _

The storm shrugs, casual and elegant. “I am,” he agrees, and then smiles, just a touch, feline and liquid. “And I am not. The storms here are  _ quite _ lethal,” and the smirk widens, eyes flashing with amusement. “You best find somewhere to hide.”

~~~

Rex has  _ no idea _ what’s going on - and that isn’t just because he can’t focus, because it feels like he’s  _ thinking too much _ but there’s not anything that makes sense - the black-as-night creature that feels like when his  _ vode _ die asks if “he’s the Chosen One,” presumably Skywalker, whatever that means, and suddenly everything is  _ tense _ . Rex draws his blasters just after the Jedi ignite their sabers.

He wishes that that seemed to concern the thing at all. But then, he’s sick and Commander Tano doesn’t seem good either - they must not exactly look threatening. And then the thing  _ laughs _ , says, “ _ What is about to happen shall occur - _ whether you  _ like it _ or  _ not _ ,” and  _ gods, gods, gods _ , their sabers flick off and Rex’s blasters jerk out of his hands. His Commander takes a fumbling step back, hits his shoulder (he’s not even sure she realized he’d stepped up next to her, and that really doesn’t say the best about her state of mind right now), and he shifts back too, considers going for his blasters except he thinks if he tries he might not be able to straighten up again. Plus he doubts it would do any good.

When General Kenobi says the thing is a Sith, Rex  _ wants _ to say, “no kidding.” But it’s probably not the best time for that.

Commander Tano doesn’t look steady at  _ all _ , and if he were any more sure of his own balance, he’d offer her an arm - but he doubts he’d be any help.

“I am,” says the Sith, light, “And I am not,” and Rex wants to swear. The  _ kriff _ does that mean? “The storms here are  _ quite  _ lethal - you’d best find somewhere to hide.” Then he leaps into the air, kriffing  _ changes _ from a… whatever he was into a kriffing  _ bat-thing _ , and  _ flies away _ .

“So helpful,” Rex grumbles, bending to retrieve his blasters (kriff, kriff, his head, his whole  _ self _ \- he feels like he did when he got infected with the virus on Naboo, hot and sick and trapped in his head, like it’s hard to think and pressure in his temples and  _ too much _ of… of everything), standing again with a little more difficulty.

“I think we’d better take his advice,” Kenobi says, voice tinged with alarm, and Rex sees why - the rain is building into driving needles, thunder rolling all around them, and then he sees flickers of lightning over all the mountaintops. The next moment, the clearing lights up with silver-blue electricity and Rex tastes ozone as lightning strikes too close and the actual  _ ground _ seems to change, the dead trees starting to glow.

He does  _ not _ like this place.

Commander Tano, reasonably, tries to break into a run, except after a few steps she staggers, hands going to her head, and leans over. That same pain sparks across his skin again, sharp. What is  _ wrong _ with her? What’s wrong with  _ him _ ?

He and Kenobi hurry up to her, and Rex probably shouldn’t, but he puts one arm under Ahsoka’s shoulder, to give her some support, and Kenobi does the same on the other side of her, and the General nods ahead of them. “I think I see a cave there that we can shelter in.”

Better kriffing be good enough.

Rex just keeps up with Kenobi, lets the General worry about where they’re going and how fast (too fast), and he doesn’t know how it happens exactly but then they’re walking into a cave and the rain stops blurring his HUD.

It’s dark, but seems dry and quiet, and there are softly-glowing blue crystals everywhere, bright enough that they can see their way to get further back in the cave, find a wide, clearer space with almost-steps of stone going up on all sides. There's a… whispering around them, like small voices - probably an effect of the wind, right? Right.

Rex needs to start a fire, probably, and they need to talk about what to do next with no ship and no General Skywalker and the threat of whatever the  _ kriff _ that Sith thing was.

He needs to do those things. They’re important. But it's hard to think.

He and Kenobi help Ahsoka sit down on one of the raised stone steps, and  _ gods _ he wants to sit down too, but she’s visibly shivering and Kenobi doesn’t look much warmer so. He needs to make a fire. Should do that now.  _ Kriff _ .

He goes a little ways away from them, letting Kenobi worry about checking Ahsoka for the sickness or injury she  _ must _ be dealing with, and crouches down to dig in his utility belt for his supplies.

Why does it feel like his head is splitting and he can’t collect his thoughts?

He thinks once they’re sure Ahsoka is going to be alright, he’d better tell General Kenobi he’s not functioning very well. No use getting himself killed because he can’t kriffing think.

It’s mostly muscle memory that lets him get the fire started, years of doing this, because his brain has more or less decided it doesn’t want to do  _ anything _ anymore except hurt. And worry about the Commander, who he can kriffing  _ feel _ isn’t… isn’t good.

He thinks he’s going to collapse. Also not good. He wants to take his helmet off so he can  _ breathe  _ but he’s sure he looks almost as bad as Commander Tano and he’d much rather have Kenobi worrying about her just now. Priorities, get the Jedi in good shape first, then they can bother with him.

He eases himself carefully down on the floor, puts his supplies away, keeps an eye on Ahsoka and General Kenobi in case either of them needs him.

~~~

By the time Ahsoka manages to get inside the cave, her legs feel like lead, and once Rex and Obi-Wan get her to somewhere she can  _ sit, _ she doesn’t have the energy to do anything more than let her legs buckle, collapse (somewhat controlled, at least) onto the rocky floor. She presses her forehead into her knees, wraps her arms around her legs, takes deep breath and tries to swallow the pain and dizziness she doesn’t  _ understand. _ This shouldn’t be  _ happening, _ she hasn’t even  _ done _ anything.

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan says, “what’s wrong?”

Just the sound of his voice sends a stab of pain through her skull, and she grits her teeth, tries not to whimper. (Fails, she’s pretty sure.) “My  _ head,” _ she chokes out, muffled, barely more than a whisper. “It  _ hurts.” _

She’s not the only one in pain. Somebody  _ else _ is, she can feel it, hot and burning, and she frowns, tries to isolate the feeling even though that  _ hurts. _

“Rex?” she mumbles. “What’s wrong with you?” Because it’s  _ definitely _ him, his Force-signature is all off and she doesn’t understand why.

Obi-Wan suddenly  _ swears, _ viciously and loudly, and she hisses in pain, curls her hands around her montrals in an attempt to deafen herself a little. Obligingly, he lowers his voice. “Ahsoka, do you have shields up?”

“No,” she whispers, “can’t focus. Migraine.”

He swears again, much quieter, says, “Rex?”

“Yeah, sir,” Rex says, equally soft and strained, “not feeling so good. Got a migraine, maybe a fever. But--I’ll be fine if I need to be.”

That’s not good. Ahsoka isn’t quite sure  _ why _ it’s not good, except that she thinks that if two of the three of them are--sick or something, in hostile territory, it’s  _ dangerous. _

Obi-Wan’s frustration and worry radiates out into the Force,  _ intense _ and  _ vibrant, _ and with a faint whimper Ahsoka instinctively pulls back, and--

And  _ oh, _ just pulling back a little bit helps the strain, some, helps the feeling of  _ too much too much too much, _ and she shivers and curls in on herself a little more because she doesn’t  _ understand. _ “W-what’s wrong, Master?” she breathes, startles a little when Obi-Wan scoops her up into his arms and bodily carries her closer to the fire. Where the fire  _ came from _ she doesn’t know, but it’s blessed warmth on her and she murmurs, “Thanks.”

“Here, sir,” Rex says, and she tilts her head enough to look at him with one half-closed eye (and that’s a kriffing  _ mistake, _ the world spins and she barely manages to swallow the rising nausea and the firelight  _ stabs _ into her head and kriff kriff kriff), catches a glimpse of him, his helmet still on, tugging a survival blanket out of his pack.

She closes her eyes again, huffs out a soft breath when Obi-Wan gently wraps the blanket around her, the warmth enough to  _ finally _ let her muscles unclench. “Let me help Ahsoka strengthen her own shields first,” Obi-Wan says, “and then I’ll actually put some of my own shields around your mind, if you’re alright with that, Rex.”

She thinks Rex says something, but her head hurts too much for her to pay attention, and also Obi-Wan is  _ in her head _ too easily, her shields should be stronger than that. Should be. Aren’t. He’s rebuilding them, slowly, carefully, and the stronger they get the more the  _ pressure _ relaxes, allowing her to breathe. “You must be careful to only skim the surface of the Force while we’re here, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan tells her, finally, withdrawing from her mind, and she nods a tiny bit.

Her head still  _ hurts, _ but at least it’s a little more  _ manageable _ now. And she thinks it’ll fade, some, if she manages to get some sleep tonight. Which is good. This  _ hurts. _ She’s not gonna be able to  _ do anything _ if this doesn’t  _ stop. _

~~~

Rex shifts, trying to get more comfortable, and notes that Ahsoka already looks a fair bit calmer, not so pained. His own head still feels scattered, all  _ wrong _ , and General Kenobi knows he’s sick now anyway, so he reaches up and tugs his helmet off.  _ Gods _ , it’s a relief - doesn’t change much, really, except it’s a little extra heat and pressure gone and he can  _ breathe _ . He rubs his eyes, finds that while he feels less claustrophobic, there is still  _ too much  _ in his head, he doesn’t even know what there’s too much of except he knows that Commander Tano’s head hurts, she is scared and tired, General Kenobi feels lost and out of his depth and confused, and there's something outside that's  _ cold, cold,  _ and so  _ dark _ , and he shouldn't be able to know  _ any of that, _ it's all  _ wrong _ .

It almost doesn’t hurt anymore, he’s just dizzy. Which Kix would tell him is a bad sign, probably.  _ Haar’chak _ .

General Kenobi switches his focus from Commander Tano to Rex, says, “I assume you know how to shield?”

“Some, sir,” Rex says, not sure how that applies to their situation.

“Is it alright if I put up some shielding in your thoughts? It would not be invasive.”

Rex hesitates (and it’s hard to connect what the  _ kriff _ any of that means, but he thinks he should know, it’s just- it escapes him), then says, “Yeah, sir, but I- I’m sorry, sir, I don’t understand how shielding will help.”

Kenobi smiles at him, a little, although Rex knows that he is worried. “This planet is practically made of the Force, Captain. It’s a bit intense even for Jedi, and you, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, are not a Jedi.”

Rex still doesn’t kriffing  _ understand _ . “Sir?”

“What you’re feeling, Captain, is the Force, and a  _ lot _ of it. You’re not meant to be able to, and I don’t think it will be good for you if we can’t get you shielded.”

Oh. Oh,  _ gods _ .  _ Haar’chak _ . That’s not good, he can’t- Feeling the Force? That isn't allowed, that's for Jedi, and part of him remembers the longnecks telling the younger batches (after they discovered one of their earlier units showing signs of Force-sensitivity) that the Force was not for clones, that they had a duty to report it if one of their brothers had that ability. That the Jedi did not want them to be sensitives. And Rex thinks most of that was just the Kaminoans, but- This is not good. “Oh. Fine, then, sir.”

He blames the pain and the lack of focus for how anxious he suddenly feels.

On Kamino, they taught them how to shield themselves against mind tricks and persuasion and things like that, so Rex knows what it feels like when someone’s in his head.

It’s not so bad with General Kenobi, mostly because the Jedi Master’s staying on the edges of his thoughts, and Rex isn’t thinking much anyway. There’s a feeling like someone’s helping him put on his armor, and slowly all the...  _ everything  _ eases a little, and he can  _ focus _ again. He doesn’t mean to let out a sigh of relief, doesn’t mean to slump at all either, but  _ gods _ it’s just. It’s still not good but it’s better.

Which means he can worry about rations. He reaches for his pack before Kenobi is even out of his head, pulls out a couple packets of emergency rations. He’d better cook them himself - Commander Tano is terrible at it. Which shouldn’t even be possible, emergency rations are not hard to make, but she’s managed to kriff it up before.

It was hilarious, even  _ Hardcase _ couldn't stomach them.

He thinks Kenobi is  _ amused _ (and oh kriff, he could hear that, damn it), then Rex doesn’t feel anyone else in his mind anymore and that’s a relief. He nods at the General (ow), gives him a small smile. “Thanks, sir. That helps.”

~~~

“Are those rations?” Ahsoka asks, softly, lifting her head from her knees again, just a little. 

“Yep,” Rex says, and shoots her a  _ look. _ “And you  _ don’t _ get to make them.”

She  _ sighs, _ mumbles, “It wasn’t  _ that bad.” _ Really. It wasn’t. She didn’t mess them up  _ that _ badly. “They were still edible.”

“Commander,” Rex says, dryly, “rations are barely edible at the  _ best _ of times.”

Not the kriffing  _ point. _

She sighs, again, hunches her shoulders a little more and tightens the blanket around her, shivers a bit. There’s a chill deep in her bones, and she’s not sure if it’s from the rain or from the Dark thing, but even the warmth of the fire and the blanket doesn’t help  _ enough. _

But Obi-Wan is cold too, she thinks, looking at the Jedi Master--his clothes are soaked through and he’s crouched near the fire, holding his hands out to the flames, so. So it wouldn’t be fair of her to hog the blanket. “H-here, Master,” she offers, forcing her chilled fingers to unclench around the blanket’s edge, letting the blanket fall from her shoulders and tugging it into one hand to offer to Obi-Wan. Never mind the fact that a fresh chill runs down her back and across her skin as soon as the blanket is gone--it wouldn’t be fair, or right.

Rex gives her a  _ very disapproving _ look, says, warningly, “Commander…”

She ignores him. “You need it,” she continues.

Obi-Wan stands, walks around the fire, and kneels beside her. “Not as much as you do, Ahsoka,” he says, gently, and he reaches out, takes the blanket, wraps it back around her back and shoulders. “Keep that around you.”

“Are you s-sure?”

“You’re shivering,” he says, a bit wryly. “So yes, Padawan, I  _ am _ sure.”  A pause, and then: “After we eat, we should sleep.”

Sleep sounds nice. But they need to keep watch. “I’ll t-take first watch,” she tries, and both Rex and Obi-Wan shake their heads, firmly.

“I’ll keep watch,” Rex says, finishes with the rations and hands one to Obi-Wan, one to her, keeps one for himself. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep, anyway.”

“We don’t know when the next opportunity for rest will be, Captain,” Obi-Wan says. “We all should sleep.”

“Then I’ll take first watch, and you can try and Force me under when it’s your turn.” Rex opens his ration pack and starts to eat, as though the sentence he’s just uttered is completely normal. It’s not.  _ Rex _ doesn’t normally have that much trouble sleeping, she doesn’t think. It shouldn’t  _ be _ that difficult.

But Ahsoka is  _ tired, _ and her head  _ hurts, _ and so she nibbles on her rations, only a little, because her head hurts too much for her to be hungry. She doesn’t quite know why she’s so  _ exhausted _ when she hasn’t done much of anything--probably the Force, she thinks, it’s so  _ strong _ and she’s been struggling to channel  _ all of it _ at once.

“You need to eat, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan says, and she half-shrugs.

“I’m not really hungry,” she admits, sets the ration pack down next to her with a sigh. “I think I just want to sleep, if that’s alright.” Rex  _ looks _ at her, almost resigned, shakes his head a bit, and she sighs. Reluctantly picks the ration pack back up and forces herself to just  _ eat, _ even though she’s not hungry. 

She has a feeling sleeping isn’t going to be very fun tonight.

~~~

Rex has no trouble staying awake, as he’d expected - he still feels not quite right in his skin, can’t shake what’s left of his headache - but it turns out that staying focused is hard. Which he can’t kriffing afford, especially not here on this shitty ball of dirt. He doesn’t trust  _ anything _ here, which should make it easy to be vigilant.

But he doesn’t feel right, so he’s fiddling with the casing of one of his blasters, mostly for no reason other than to keep his hands busy. At least Commander Tano is asleep - he’d half expected her to struggle to sleep too, but fortunately that hadn’t been the case.

He’s trying not to waste too much energy being worried about General Skywalker - they’ll make plans tomorrow, when the storm’s over and he doesn’t feel like he’s been hit by a tank.

He pulls one knee up to his chest and tries to stop fidgeting so much, and then he hears movement and turns, fast, but it’s just his Commander. Except she looks scared, and she’s moving around in her sleep.

Rex is not a stranger to nightmares, by any means - he remembers the first time he began to realize that his  _ vode _ all had them, had the  _ same one _ , even - but he’s less sure what he should do. Waking her up would panic her, and she needs to  _ sleep _ , but he doesn’t particularly want to just sit here and let her have a nightmare, either.

Before he can decide, she wakes up with a small gasp, and pushes herself up, staring at the fire. Rex eases himself carefully to his feet (that still doesn’t feel good) and walks over to sit down again, next to her. “Hey, Commander. Everything okay?” It’s easier to focus on this than on keeping watch for nothing at all, for shadows in the dark and a Sith.

~~~

Ahsoka sucks in a desperate, shaky breath, shoving herself up to a sitting position and staring at the fire burning brightly in the middle of the cave--but there’s no sign of the, the, future her?  _ There is a wildness to you, child. Seeds of the Dark Side, planted by your Master. _ She shivers, instinctively pulls the blanket closer around her.  _ Are you happy, child? _

“Hey, Commander. Everything okay?”

Ahsoka  _ jumps, _ jerks her head around (ow  _ kriff _ that hurt, bad idea) to see Rex lowering himself down to sit next to her, looking concerned. How did she not notice him move? “I--hey, Rex,” she fumbles, drops her eyes to her knees and swallows, hard. “Yeah--I’m… fine.” That’s  _ such a lie. _ But Rex doesn’t need to know that. Especially not after how she’d… basically  _ collapsed, _ earlier.

“All due respect, sir, but I don’t think that’s quite true,” he says, and she flushes a bit, can’t look up. “Care to tell me what’s going on?”

“It’s--just a nightmare, Rexter, don’t worry about it,” and she looks up at him again, offers him a wan smile. “Just a dream.” That’s all it was. Just a dream. “I hope,” she whispers, nearly inaudibly, because if it’s  _ not, _ if this isn’t a dream but a  _ vision, _ then Anakin might be in  _ terrible _ danger.

“Hey, nothing’s happening here anyway,” he says, with a small shrug. “And I’m kinda having trouble staying awake, so might as well talk. Passes the time, at least.”

He smiles, just a little bit, and she sighs, rubs her eyes and nods.  _ Seeds of the Dark Side, planted by your Master. _ “I… I don’t know, it was… weird. I saw… myself. I think. I don’t know,” and she shakes her head.  _ Are you happy, child? Your Master, has he treated you well? _ “Kept talking about Master Anakin, about… me needing to leave him. Or I’d Fall. Go Dark. She--I--said that… there’s a wildness to me,” and she shivers again.  _ “Seeds of the Dark Side, planted by your Master.” _

~~~

Rex glances over at his Commander, who’s staring at the fire again, the flickering light shining copper-colored on her cheekbones, turning her blue eyes crystalline. “Nightmares are hard,” he says, commiseratingly, looking down at his knees. “Sorry about it, Commander.”

“I don’t think it  _ was _ a nightmare, Rex.”

Well. That makes things  _ wonderful _ . She doesn’t sound like she thinks that makes it  _ urgent _ , just sounds anxious, and quiet. He frowns, leans a little forward. “Then what  _ was _ it?” This is why he doesn’t really like Jedi stuff, it makes little sense to him. And, as it turns out,  _ hurts _ . The Force doesn’t normally hurt his Jedi like this when they use it, does it?

“I think…” His Commander glances over at Kenobi’s sleeping form. “A vision, or something- I think Anakin’s in danger.”

Rex goes to push himself to his feet, because if General Skywalker is in danger, they need to get General Kenobi up and make a plan to go find him, and  _ now _ . “I’ll get the General up, we can go find him.”

But Commander Tano says, “No, wait. He needs to sleep too, and we can’t go out in the storm. The… That Sith, or whatever he was, said the storms are lethal.”

Which is a fair point, and Rex wouldn’t believe the creature except they’d been out there for only a few minutes and he thinks he’d rather not be again and he can still faintly  _ feel _ there's  _ danger _ out there. So he subsides, sits back down and rubs a hand over his hair. “So you saw that, and you think it was… kind of real, sir?”

(He knows how that feels, almost, because the nightmares he has… those he sometimes thinks are almost true, and when he wakes up he feels sick. He doesn’t know why they feel that way.)

~~~

“Yeah,” Ahsoka says, swallows. Twists her fingers together and tries not to lean closer to Rex, because he--he probably wouldn’t want that, and she  _ shouldn’t, _ even though she really just… there’s something  _ comforting _ about his closeness. (She thinks she’s shifted closer to him anyway.) “I don’t know what to call it, Rex, it just… it felt… real, yeah. I, she said, I have to  _ leave him. _ But he’s not… I’m not…” and she gives up, shakes her head. She can’t put it into words. It doesn’t make much sense. 

She sighs, tiredly, swallows and curls in on herself a little, cold again--a chill that’s deeper than just the dampness still clinging to her clothes. It’s fear and anxiety and a hollow foreboding in her stomach, something that tells her  _ leave now, get away, leave and never come back, don’t let them touch you, don’t let them near. _ She doesn’t even know who  _ they _ are (except she thinks she  _ does, _ a storm and a sun in human skins), but there’s something… no. She won’t think about it like this.

“We’ll figure it out, Commander,” Rex says, and something in her  _ twists _ at the title.

“I wish you weren’t so kriffing  _ formal _ all the time,” bursts out before she can stop herself, and she winces, bites her lower lip and looks back at the fire, because  _ kriff. _ She did  _ not _ mean to say that. At all.

~~~

Rex blinks, taken aback, and tries to find something to say, because what does she expect from him really? But he doesn't want her to be upset at him, and it's hardly that he can  _ only _ be formal, it's just- but before he can say anything, she's pushing on again. “I do have a  _ name _ , you know,” she says, and Rex winces, because that's fair - it's just, he hasn't thought it mattered as much to Jedi and normal sentients as it does to his  _ vode _ . “I mean, what if I only ever called you Captain?  It's just nice to be reminded sometimes that I'm… I'm more than somebody who just orders people to their deaths.”

Rex partly wants to laugh and say  _ don't I know it _ , partly he wants to say that they  _ have _ to be formal, because that is what they are: Captain and Commander, so why pretend to be anything else?

But both those responses are bitter ones and hardly fair and don't even make  _ sense _ , partly, so he rubs his forehead and sighs. “I don't know, sir- I mean,”  _ haar’chak _ , “I'm sorry. I don't… You're a ranking officer, it would be ridiculous for me to assume I could just, use your name.” He shrugs, says wryly, “Formality comes with the chain of command, sir, it wasn't exactly my idea.”

He doesn't think he's said the right thing, because Ahsoka looks away, shaking her head. “Rex, just…” She shrugs. “I'm sorry I mentioned it, forget about it.”

_ Damnit _ . Kriff his stupid  _ mouth _ , but. But he's on shaky ground as it is, with feeling the  _ Force _ , and everything is  _ off _ and he doesn't know what to do. “I'm sorry,” he says, awkwardly, and barely avoids fidgeting.

~~~

“It’s fine,” Ahsoka says, quickly, doesn’t look at Rex. Can’t. She  _ shouldn’t have said that. _ He doesn’t  _ want _ to use her name, it’s not… that’s something people who are… friends, or--something she shouldn’t even  _ think _ about, because it’s not possible--that’s something  _ those _ people do. Not… not Jedi Commanders and their men. She doesn’t know why it’s so hard to just  _ remember _ that. “Don’t worry about it, Rex.”

“I’m just--” and he stops, hesitates, and that’s enough for her to look over at him, though she’s careful not to meet his eyes. “I don’t know if I  _ can,  _ I’m not--it’s against regs, I’m already breaking--I don’t know how to do that.”

She blinks. Because Rex is… almost  _ stammering, _ which  _ never happens. _ Ever. And also because that makes a lot of sense, and is also  _ confusing, _ because okay, regs, sure, whatever, but… “It’s just a name,” she says, slow and uncertain, “why would it be--against regs? For me to ask you to use my name?”

“It’s never  _ just a name,” _ Rex says, something low and intense in his voice.

And she sighs. “You’re right,” she admits, feels quiet and small. “It’s the only thing the Jedi didn’t give me.” Hells, her Master hadn’t even  _ chosen her, _ like most normal Masters did--the Council had  _ decided _ she’d be a good fit for Knight Skywalker, and thus  _ go to Christophsis, Initiate Tano,  _ even though she’d barely even  _ met _ Anakin Skywalker before. Even though  _ everyone _ knew he didn’t  _ want _ a padawan, had barely been Knighted, was already heralded as one of the best, most brilliant Jedi in the order, despite being only nineteen years old. Only five years older than her. (And what if he didn’t like her, what if she couldn’t be good enough for him, fourteen years old and only not sent to the Corps because they need Initiates to run messages back and forth, no Master wanted her and they thought that she’d be a good match for  _ Anakin kriffing Skywalker?) _

~~~

“I understand,” Rex says. He does. He got his name from his  _ vode _ \- everything else is from the longnecks and his trainers. “It's hard, sir-” he didn't mean to call her that  _ again _ and he winces, sighs. “Never mind. I can try - I do understand.” And he  _ wants _ to use her name, because they have been fighting together for years now and he trusts her - kriff, they're  _ friends _ , it's just… he isn't sure. He doesn't quite trust himself.

“I'd, I'd like that,” she says, twisting her fingers in the emergency blanket. “But you don't have to do that. If you don't want to.”

“I know,” Rex says. That's the nice thing, she didn't order him. He rubs his head again, and hears the thunder crack dimly outside. “Anyway, I'm sorry about your dream- thing. The General’s gonna be fine.” He usually is. When he's not, they deal with it. Right now they can't do anything, so no use worrying. “You should…” He hesitates. “You should go back to sleep, Ahsoka, sir.”

~~~

Sleep is probably a good idea. Ahsoka's _ tired, _ really, and her head still hurts, and she wants her Master. But when Rex says her _ name, _ she can't help a smile, can't stop the rush of warmth that surges through her, dispels the chill more thoroughly than the fire and the blanket ever could. Her name sounds like a _ song, _ when Rex says it, like a melody, like something beautiful and wild and fierce. The name lingers on his lips like he wishes he could hold it there, like he likes the way it feels on his tongue.

He may never use her name ever again, but that's okay, she thinks, suddenly. She'll have the _ memory _ of this moment, and that will be enough, will be _ more _ than enough. So she smiles at him and says, “Yeah, probably, Rex,” and tries to keep from laughing.

She _ does _ need to sleep, but she doesn't want to lay down again. Because if she lays down, Rex will leave, go back to his position, and he'll be too far away. And she _ wants him _ here, next to her. She feels _ safe, _ warm with him here. So she curls up a little, over her knees, cuddles more into the blanket, brings her knees up to her chin. Doesn't _ mean _ to shift closer to Rex, close enough she can almost touch him, but it happens and she's not gonna complain, that's for sure.

She thinks Rex might say something, but she's tired, and so she ignores him and breathes softly out and lets her head fall onto his shoulder, her eyes drifting closed, as she nestles against his side, just a little. Just enough for him to be a solid, warm reassurance against her.

~~~

She's sitting  _ so close _ , chin propped on her knees and eyes blurry with sleep - it must be a mistake, how close she's gotten, must be her being about to fall asleep. Rex sits up straight and stares at the fire, and Ahsoka is still wobbling at the edge of sleep like she doesn't want to fall into it, so he says, “Sir, just sleep. I've got you.”

Ahsoka sighs, closes her eyes, and suddenly she's  _ laying her head on his shoulder _ , shifting in closer, letting out another sigh, more contented and soft. And she's  _ right there _ , the weight of her head on his upper arm, her shoulder against his side, and it must be a mistake, because she's cold and tired and she certainly can't have meant to do this.

He decides he'd better lay her down, so she's sleeping properly, but when he shifts and tries to move her, she twines her arms around his torso and hangs on  _ tight _ . And she is really very young, like he is, and she's cold and her Master is gone, so it makes sense she wouldn't want him, a source of body heat, to move.

_ Little gods _ , he's going to be stuck with the memory of this, her arms wrapped around him and her face pressed into his shoulder, for a long time. The thing is, too - she fits. It feels  _ nice _ , and safe.

But it's not going to happen again, so might as well not think about it.

When Kenobi wakes up and comes to relieve him from his watch, Rex very studiously avoids the topic of his Commander clinging to him like a limpet for as long as possible, relays what she said about her dream and Anakin. Then he pauses, awkwardly, and pulls at one of Ahsoka’s arms.

“Um, sir, I don't know why she's doing this and I don't know how to get her off of me,” he says, sheepishly.

“Just lay down, Captain,” Kenobi says, shrugging with a wry look, like he knows this is all  _ very _ unusual. “She needs to stay warm and we can't wake her up. Maybe she'll let go when you move, I don't know. Don't worry about it, Rex.”

He sighs, says, “Yes, sir,” and eases himself carefully down onto his back, the only way he can lay without crushing her arms. She doesn't let go, just adjusts herself to her new sleeping position and holds on tighter.

_ Gods damn it _ .  _ Kriff _ .

Rex closes his eyes and tries to ignore everything, and General Kenobi puts a hand on his shoulder and says,  _ so heavy _ , “ **_Sleep,_ ** Rex.”

Rex does.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for a brief sorta-kinda sexual harassment bit (the scene where the Son has Ahsoka chained to the wall, you guys know the drill on that one).
> 
> super loving hearing all your feedback!!

Ahsoka wakes up, slowly, to the feeling of something poky beneath her cheek and an arm tight and warm around her. She doesn't want to _ move, _ despite the fact that she thinks she _ should, _ because she's warm and safe and--

And this is  _ Rex. _

Kriff.

She opens her eyes, which _ hurts, _ but not as much as… yesterday? Kriff, they didn't give her a watch. She's slept the whole _ night. _ Why would they  _ do that? _

The blanket is still warm around her shoulders, and she really doesn't want to _ move, _ except she's got her head on Rex's chest and her arm around his torso, tight and clinging, and he's got an arm loose around her shoulders. And Obi-Wan is _ watching her. _ With a wry smile on his face.

She is _ comfy. _

She doesn't want to move.

So she sighs, ruefully, closes her eyes again and nestles tighter into Rex's side, into _ safety. _

~~~

The fact that he wakes up  _ slowly _ lets him know that they're still safe, for the time being. And the electric energy still setting his nerves prickling says everything is  _ calm _ again. His headache has at least subsided to a lighter, easy-to-ignore ache.

He shifts, makes himself focus, and realizes that Ahsoka is still hanging onto him, tight. And he has his arm around her.

Kriff.

He shifts, looks at her, and she's awake. She smiles at him, kind of wryly, kind of sleepily. He eases his arm from around her, sits up a little, and she sits up too with a yawn. “Sorry about that, Commander,” he says.

It seems to take her a moment to figure out that he means sorry for putting his arm around her, and when she does she shrugs, wraps her arms around her stomach. “It's okay,” she says, which is a relief. “It made me feel safer.”

“Oh. Well, good,” he says, tentatively, and pushes himself to his feet. He nods at Kenobi (who really should have woken him up for another watch) and picks up his pack to take a drink from his canteen. “Heard anything from General Skywalker, sir?”

“Not this morning, no,” Kenobi says. “Are you both doing any better?”

Rex can still  _ feel _ things, a pressure and a presence and emotions, that he shouldn't be able too, and he still  _ hurts _ a little, but it's all much better, more under control. “Managing, sir. I'm gonna be able to fight, if we need to.”

~~~

“That's good,” Obi-Wan says, looks from Rex to her. “And you, Ahsoka?”

“I'm alright,” she says, pushes herself to her feet and rolls up the blanket, hands it to Rex. “Head still hurts some, but it's better. I can _ think.” _

She steps to the edge of the cave, looks out--there's brightness in the sky again, the grass growing green, flowers blooming, the trees  _ alive. _ “We should go,” she calls back over her shoulder. “We need to find Anakin.”

“I agree,” and Obi-Wan steps up beside her, Rex behind him. “We should retrace our steps and see about getting past that rockfall.”

She nods. Leaves the cave and the glowing crystals behind, steps out into the daylight. It's warm and bright and beautiful, feels nice on her skin. She drops back to walk by Rex, and she smiles at him even though he's got his helmet back on.

The planet is, surprisingly, actually _ beautiful, _ when it's not trying to kill them.

~~~

This morning would be  _ beautiful _ , Rex thinks, if this planet weren't so kriffing horrible. But when he looks at the blossoming trees, he can only remember them bare and electrified the night before, and although his- Kenobi's shields feel stronger than before, and the Force -  _ the Force _ \- is less burning than it was, he knows better than to trust this place.

He smiles back at his Commander, although of course she can't see him; she looks less pained, this morning, and less scared. (He almost thinks that’s partially because of him, but she hardly needs  _ him _ to be brave. Except she said he made her feel safer.)

Kenobi looks better too, although Rex is sure he's concerned for General Skywalker - they all are. Well, they'll find him, whether he needs them to or not, and then they'll get the kriff out of here.

They're just starting across the clearing for the rocky path they'd taken the day before when Rex’s stomach twists with a surge of nausea, and he grabs his DCs, because all his instincts are  _ shouting  _ that he has to  _ go, now _ \- but where, or why, he doesn't know, and it's more than a gut feeling or a hunch: it's a kriffing  _ shriek _ of alarm.

The Jedi grab their sabers and then there’s a rush of air, a downdraft of  _ pressure _ and the lightning on Rex’s skin flares into a burn, twisting-hot. A creature glowing and white and winged grabs General Kenobi by the arms and in the same breath the horrible  _ thing _ that is the Sith, bat-like and grimacing, yanks Ahsoka up by one arm and she  _ yells _ , kicking and scrabbling at the black claw hooked tight around her arm. Rex fires  _ one two three four _ at both creatures, but nothing  _ happens _ and then the bat lunges forward, wings unfurling, and grabs his arm in its other claw, leaping into the air so fast that the resulting jerk on his arm wrenches his shoulder all wrong.

Rex lifts and shoots with his free arm, but it does no good and the bat just  _ roars _ , flies faster, the unsteady rhythm of its flight throwing the world off-kilter. Ahsoka is still struggling to yank her arm free, except they’re climbing too high above the ground already and she’s swinging in the creature’s grip and it’s got her  _ too tight _ , her arm’s going to  _ break _ . Rex has his armor, maybe if he could pull his arm out of it he could get loose. And fall to his death.

“Kriff, kriff,  _ kriff _ ,” he says angrily, shooting a few more times, even though it’s still useless. He feels like he’s on fire, too close to a burning star, his senses saying  _ too much _ and the grip around his arm seeming like it could melt through his armor with its heat, but he has to  _ stay focused _ .

Ahsoka finally stops kicking, after she swings over when the bat makes a banking turn and both her feet slam hard enough into Rex’s stomach to make him cough. His shoulder feels like it’s going to  _ snap _ , so he holsters his blaster and hangs on the claw holding his arm so maybe he can balance the weight on both shoulders.

Then Ahsoka draws her saber, ignites it, and stabs upward at the creature’s other claw, doesn’t even make a mark.

And it  _ drops her _ .

“ _ Ahsoka!” _ Rex flings out his arm like he could catch her, but he  _ can’t _ , she’s  _ gone _ , oh  _ gods _ \- and then the creature plunges into a horrible shrieking dive.

~~~

The Storm is in his winged bat-shape, and his grip on Ahsoka's arm _ burns _ and sears and she's almost afraid to look, afraid she'll see a blackened outline of its clawed hand on her bicep. She can't _ breathe, _ her head _ screaming _ from _ too much, _ the Force is an icy inferno in her bones, turning her to ash. It's _ instinct _ to struggle, even as the strain feels like it's ripping her in half, and she grabs one saber because she  _ has to get away. _

But when she stabs her green saber at the creature’s leg, nothing even _ happens, _ except there's a sound like laughter on the breeze and then he  _ lets go. _

Ahsoka _ screams. _

Wind hisses in her ears, loud and mocking,  _ silly little child, you should have done what you were told, you wanted to be free, _ humming silken and ancient on the fringes of her thoughts,  _ what's the matter, little Jedi, are you afraid of _ **_Chaos?_ **

No no no  _ please, _ she flails, reaches out for something,  _ anything, _ even the awful frozen flame of the Storm is better than this,  _ please please don't let me fall, _ and then just as her feet slam into the rocks below (and oh _ stars _ that hurts) the burning vise clamps on her arm again, snaps her high into the air with so much  _ force _ and _ Force _ and she chokes on a scream of _ pain _ because there's claws digging into her and she's flopping around like a limp rag doll in a child's fist. It's all she can do to get her saber back on her belt, reach  _ desperately _ for something,  _ anything. _

She wants Anakin, she wants Rex, she wants to be _ anywhere but here, _ please, but she can't and she's _ trapped _ and he's still _ laughing _ in her mind.

The Storm _ slams _ her and Rex into the stone, some kind of circular area, she thinks she sees Anakin in the center, something tall and endless and ancient as the universe; the impact rips the air from her lungs and something  _ cracks _ in her back and she  _ gasps, _ white-noise static crackling across her vision. Pain flowers through her skull, her ribs, her whole  _ body, _ and there’s a voice, eternal and echoing, like the stars themselves are speaking:  **“Now, release your guilt!”**

“Whatever he wants, Master,  _ don’t do it!” _ she shouts, except then the creature’s clawed hand  _ tightens _ so hard she can  _ feel _ her bones grinding and there’s that laughing whisper again,  _ now now, little Jedi, don’t interfere, you’ll ruin the fun, _ and malevolent  _ threat, _ and she yelps in pain and subsides, can’t breathe. No. No, no, no.

**“You must now choose who to save: your Master or your Apprentice.”**

~~~

There’s anxiety and burning pain so twisted in Rex’s stomach he thinks he’s going to be sick, and he wants to help Ahsoka but he  _ can’t _ , and he doesn’t even know where General Kenobi is and she’s  _ crying _ and he  _ hurts _ . Then too late he realizes the ground is rushing up at them and he tenses, braces himself for the impact.

It does no good, he barely stifles a cry as the creature wrenches his arm behind his back, slams all its clawed weight against his shoulders and grinds him against stone. His armor’s barely any protection against his head cracking against the ground, one of his arms trapped under him and  _ twisting _ , everything  _ hurting _ . He scrabbles for purchase on the smooth stone, tries to push himself up, but there’s not even an inch of give, and the thing shoves him  _ harder _ into the ground.

He can’t see, but he hears a voice that  _ echoes _ , one he doesn’t recognize, say  **_“Now, release your guilt!”_ ** and he doesn’t know what that  _ means _ , what’s  _ happening _ , he can’t see much of anything - except Ahsoka, if he strains.

“Whatever he wants, Master,  _ don’t do it! _ ” she shouts (of course she does), but she sounds so  _ small _ and pained and then she  _ cries out _ , and Rex tries to push himself up again but he  _ can’t _ .

**“You must now choose who to save: your Master or your Apprentice.”** Rex wants that voice to shut up, wants the creature on his back to let go, wants to be  _ sick _ . He doesn’t understand, wishes he could.

“No!” That’s his General, angry and desperate, then he hears General Kenobi.

“Their powers are too strong for us, Anakin! Save Ahsoka!”

And Rex can’t help but agree, because if General Skywalker must choose - they all know who he needs to save. There’s no contest. Ahsoka is struggling again, and Rex can’t see so well but he can tell she’s in pain, she’s crying a little - and then the creature settles even more weight on him, so he can’t even see Ahsoka anymore, and there’s a strangled shriek of pain from her. His General needs to save her and get her  _ out of here _ .

He hears General Skywalker speak again, dimly, in the tone he’s learned just means  _ danger _ , means his General is  _ done talking _ . “Let. Them. Go.”

And it’s the echoing voice that answers,  _ damn it _ and damn this place and the creature holding them.  **_“Only you can make my children release them.”_ ** Rex just wants it to stop, he wants to stop hearing Ahsoka’s soft whimpers, wants to stop being  _ helpless _ and feeling like something’s burning deep into his back. He struggles again, but his arms are trapped and he can’t fight this  _ thing _ , whatever it is.

“Anakin!” and Rex has only heard General Kenobi sound this panicked a few times before. “The planet  _ is _ the Force. Use it.”

_ Kriff, _ please, just do  _ something _ .

~~~

Ahsoka can’t  _ see _ much of anything, pinned down as she is under the creature’s (the Son, maybe?) clawed hand; she can barely focus through  _ pain, _ in her feet and in her back and her arms, but if she  _ concentrates _ and angles her head just right she can  _ almost _ see Anakin. The Son shifts, blocks her view,  _ twisting _ her arm painfully behind her, and she whimpers and tries to  _ move, _ anything to release the awful  _ pressure _ burning her arm, but she’s held fast--

And then it doesn’t matter anyway, because Anakin says, very calm, deadly cool,  _ “Let. Them. Go.” _

And Ahsoka  _ feels _ the Force respond, singing, and abruptly the Son is lifted up into the air, her and Rex with him, and she has time to see Anakin standing in the center of the stone arena with his arms outstretched, face furiously intent, and then she sees him slide his hands  _ down, _ tugging her and Rex and Master Obi-Wan free from the literal  _ Force gods _ holding them, and then slam  _ outward, _ shoving the Son and Daughter into the walls.

But all of that ceases to matter the instant she tries to land, lightly, on her feet.

She thinks she might scream, but the agony is so intense she can’t  _ think, _ can’t focus, can’t even  _ breathe, _ and she tumbles to the ground, feels the rocks scrape against her skin, her headtails, her montrals (and they’re so  _ sensitive _ and it  _ hurts); _ there’s a voice, familiar though she can’t quite place it, saying, “Commander!  _ Ahsoka!” _ but she can’t get enough breath to answer.

**_“On. Your. Knees!”_ **

That’s Anakin, again, she thinks, vaguely, but there’s so much  _ pain _ and it’s all she can do to grab onto the hand near her, feels plastoid biting into her palm, knows she’s probably hurting them (Rex, it’s Rex), but it  _ hurts _ and she can’t let go.

~~~

For just a second, everything is  _ fine _ , because the creatures let them go and despite the pain, Rex can stand on his own two feet and draw his blasters on the damn things, but then he hears Ahsoka  _ scream _ . His stomach plummets and he spins. “Commander!” She’s curled on the ground, shaking, and he breaks into a run, shouts her name because maybe then he’ll get a response, maybe it won’t be as bad as it  _ looks _ . “ _ Ahsoka! _ ”

He can physically  _ feel _ his General’s words when he shouts at the creatures he’s fighting, but he ignores it because clearly Skywalker has  _ that _ under control. He drops down next to Ahsoka, holsters his blasters, and reaches out for her only for her to grab onto his hand desperately, so hard his gauntlet creaks and he winces. He can’t really figure out what specifically is wrong, if it’s the Force again or her shoulder or- or her  _ feet _ , little gods kriff it. He manages to pry his hand free of Ahsoka’s grip, and puts his arms carefully under her shoulders and knees, trying to avoid jostling her too much. “Sorry, Commander,” he mutters, easing himself to one knee and then upright.  _ Gods, _ that does something not-good to his shoulder. She whimpers, fumbling around with one hand for a moment before latching onto the front of his cuirass.

General Kenobi is hurrying their way, and General Skywalker - General Skywalker is fine, and the two winged creatures have been reduced to human shapes again, on their knees in front of him.  _ Little gods _ , Rex is pretty sure the General just did something  _ huge _ \- the, the  _ Force _ certainly seems to think so.

He starts carefully towards General Skywalker, lets Kenobi fall in step with him. “What happened?” Kenobi says, sharply.

“ _ It _ dropped her,” Rex answers, nodding at the Sith on the ground.

He  _ hurts _ , but he’s more angry than anything.

General Skywalker is just turning to face them when an old man with strange blue eyes and a long beard (in other words, someone Rex would not think much of if he couldn’t feel a  _ presence _ , if his instincts didn’t say  _ watch this one _ ) sort of… appears next to him. When he speaks, Rex realizes it’s  _ him _ who was telling his General to  _ choose between them _ . Rex is tired of this place’s games. He wants to be back on the  _ Resolute _ .

**“And now you see who you truly are.”** The old man sounds like he knows what he’s talking about, but still, Rex would like to punch him in the face. What does he think he knows about General Skywalker, or any of them for that matter? (Probably more than Rex would like.)  **“Only the Chosen One could tame both my children.”**

Ahsoka shifts in his grip, clings tighter to his armor, and Rex glances at General Kenobi, nods down at her. “Sir,” he says, very softly, “I think we need to get her back to the  _ Resolute _ so Kix can look at her.”

~~~

She does not want to look up.

Her Father’s orders still ring in her mind, clear and bright as the Force itself:  _ you will kill the Master. _ She does not  _ like _ killing, and her Father knows this, knows she is creation to temper her Brother’s destruction, life for his death, selfless where he is selfish. Killing is not her nature. 

Killing belongs to her Brother.

But her Father had ordered, and thus she must  _ listen, _ must obey, because ancient he may be, but he is still the Father. 

She had  _ tried _ to be gentle with the Master, but she is too  _ much, _ she knows; she burns him when she touches him, and he is in  _ pain, _ and she does not like to cause pain. That is her Brother’s realm. He kills, and destroys, and takes, and hurts; she saves, and creates, and gives, and heals. 

So when the One orders her  **_on your knees!_ ** with all the strength of her Father, she does not look up. Leaves her head bowed, her slim fingers folded loosely together in her lap, eyes focused on the rock just beyond her knees. It is not shame, not entirely, but it is something very  _ like _ shame that holds her there. 

The Apprentice is injured. That is her Brother’s fault, of course. It is his nature to injure. She feels something like compassion for the Apprentice, though it is both more and less than compassion. It is hardly fair to this small, cool, mortal vessel to be in such great pain. She wishes she could  _ heal, _ as her nature demands, but  **_kneel_ ** the One snarled in a voice of total authority, and she has not yet been given leave to rise.

**“Wait,”** her Father says, and though Daughter does not look up, she does not need to see to  _ see _ [see-feel-know] the One pausing, the Master frowning, the Apprentice still in such  _ pain _ in her… her  _ Captain’s _ arms. (Captain, a strange word, unfamiliar to her slow, long thoughts, but it is the title the Apprentice gives the one she loves. He will not long survive this world, this prison, this sanctuary; he is not meant to be here.)  **“Your Apprentice was injured by my Son--it will not be balanced unless she is healed by my Daughter.”**

And that is as good as  _ order, _ so Daughter stands, untwists her fingers, flows over to the Captain.  _ “Lay her down,” _ she says, and the Captain does, kneels by the Apprentice’s head.  _ “You should not be here, Captain.” _ There is a flash of [memory-foreknowledge- _ vision] _ and she  _ knows, _ and it is simple to wrap layers of Light, layers of herself, around the Captain’s mind, protection and garb all in one. The Master has done an exemplary job, but he is, of course, only mortal. Though a powerful Jedi indeed, he is nothing compared to herself, or her Brother, or her Father.

She reaches out one hand, touches a single finger to the Apprentice’s forehead; there is  _ pain _ shrieking through her thoughts, sharp and bloody, and Daughter traces it to  _ feet, _ to  _ shoulder _ and  _ arm _ and  _ back _ and  _ ribs, _ and she frowns very slightly.  _ [this was unnecessary, Brother.] _

Her Brother laughs, a cold and dark and sinuous sound.  _ [on the contrary: it was  _ **_fun,_ ** _ my dear Sister.] _

_ [you came perilously close to disobeying your orders,] _ she hums,  _ breathes _ warmth and Light and healing into the Apprentice’s body, pulls her fingers away.  _ [you should not do so.] _

_ [our Father is old and weak and frail,] _ her Brother mocks.  _ [he will die soon. this One will  not stay. and we will be  _ **_free.]_ **

_ [i have no desire for freedom, Brother. that is not our purpose. we are  _ **_anchorwrights,_ ** _ not spirits of mischief!] _

_ [Sister, Sister, Sister, where is your sense of adventure?] _

_ [adventure,] _ Daughter thinks, haughty, stands fluid and smooth and alien,  _ [is not in my nature. nor should it be in yours.] _

~~~

There is suddenly so much  _ less _ of- of everything, and it’s such a relief. When the Daughter lifts her fingers from Ahsoka’s forehead, his Commander gives a little gasp, then slowly the tension in her muscles and face eases and she sits up, very hesitant. Rex rests a hand on her upper back, in case she still needs the support, and watches the Daughter glide back to stand by the creature that is apparently her brother. Thank the  _ little gods _ \- or, he supposes, the not-so-little one. Not that he trusts them, by any means, but he… there’s more armor around his mind, shields adamant-strong, and he can properly breathe, can’t feel so  _ much _ of the Force.

Ahsoka leans back into his hand a little, and he can tell she's  _ deeply _ relieved, and she wiggles her feet a little in her boots like she wants to be sure they're really okay. They are - she doesn't wince and gets a stunned look on her face.

Rex looks up and sees General Skywalker looks relieved, and then his General turns back to the old man and says, “I’ve taken your test. Now let us go.”

Rex watches the strange, ancient eyes of the  _ thing _ facing Anakin as he answers (he does not particularly like how little he sees).  **“First you must understand the truth. All of you leave us.”**

Ahsoka is leaning into Rex’s arm more still, so he takes that as a cue to help her up, fitting his arm under her shoulders. She seems hesitant to put any weight on her feet, which he understands, but obviously she’s actually, really okay. He doesn’t want to leave his General, doesn’t plan on it, actually.

“Do  _ not _ trust him,” Ahsoka says, to Skywalker, fierce.

“You  _ think _ ?” he answers, and there’s a trace of that dangerous kind of anger still low in his voice.

**“I said,** **_leave us_ ** **,”** the old man says, and the words have so much  _ age _ to them, a threat almost, and that same echoing antiquity had been behind General Skywalker’s voice when he defeated the Daughter and the Sith (the Son), so they listen. All of them, the old man’s… children, too.

Rex does not  _ want _ to leave his General alone with whatever that old man is, but he doesn’t think he really gets a choice here - especially if even General Kenobi is listening. He leaves his arm around Commander Tano’s back, because he wants to make sure she isn’t going to fall.

~~~

Ahsoka doesn’t trust her feet (still remembers the  _ pain _ searing through her when she tried to land, like her body was on  _ fire). _ That’s why she leans so heavily into Rex’s side, she decides, that’s why she lets her head drop onto his shoulder a bit--well, maybe that last bit is because she’s tired. And her head still hurts some. That’s the reason, then, and it’s a perfectly good reason. 

Besides, Rex is clearly still concerned about her feet, too, because he’s still got his arm steady and tight around her shoulders, supporting her. His armor is a bit poky and scratchy against her bare back, but the plastoid has been warmed by the sun (or whatever passes for sunlight in this place) and she thinks it’s… nice, really. Yeah. She likes this. (She’s not supposed to like it.)

Their ship is, miraculously, sitting pristine and untouched on a ledge halfway up the monastery wall, and she leans on Rex as they climb the stairs up to it. Because it’s a  _ long ways _ and her feet are still sending her phantom pains and she doesn’t want him to let go. Wait.

Not that last one.

She doesn’t let go of Rex until after Master Obi-Wan passes through the shuttle’s bay (with its pair of bunks) with an offhand, “You should meditate, Ahsoka,” before he disappears into the cockpit. She doesn’t particularly  _ want _ to meditate, but she huffs out a sigh and drops to sit on one bunk just as Anakin enters the ship, looking surprisingly upset about something, though he’s shielding it heavily from her. He barely looks at her and Rex, just flops onto the spare bunk and lays on his side, facing the wall. Like he’s exhausted or something, which maybe he is.

Rex starts to head into the cockpit, and she frowns at him. “C’mon, Rex, stay back here?”

He looks at her, a bit confused. “Aren’t you going to meditate?”

She rolls her eyes. “Of course not, I  _ hate _ meditating. I’d rather talk, anyway.”

~~~

Rex snorts, because that is very like her (and very like her Master, for that matter). She’s sitting on one of the two bunks, and he almost wants to sit by her because he is  _ so tired _ \- but he can’t do that. So he leans against the wall next to the bunk and tugs his helmet off, rests it under one arm and shakes his head a little.  _ Finally _ they get to leave. They can go back to the  _ Resolute _ and Kix can look at his shoulder and he can tell Cody all about this disaster over drinks, swear about their Generals a little.

“You should sit,” his Commander says, and he shrugs, tapping his helmet a couple times.

“Too restless,” he says. Which is mostly true - he doesn’t want to be that  _ still _ , and propriety says he can’t do that anyway.

“This whole thing was so… weird,” she says, gesturing vaguely.

“You can say that again, sir,” Rex says vehemently. He can’t wait to be as far away from here as possible. “This whole place… It isn’t right.” He rubs his face, then winces a little; his left wrist doesn’t feel good, which  _ might _ have something to do with it having been twisted under him when the Son slammed him into the ground. He swears quietly under his breath and unbuckles that gauntlet, peels off his glove, and pushes up the edge of the sleeve of his blacks to look at his wrist. “Yeah, kriffing  _ hate _ this,” he says. He’s bruised for sure, probably otherwise just a slight sprain.

“Are you okay?” she asks, and he chuckles a little.

“Fine.” Just tired, and anxious, and everything feels  _ wrong _ and he’s in pain, but they’re leaving so he might as well be  _ amazing _ . “You?”

She shrugs a little, seems to be appraising herself again. Which he understands - if he suddenly couldn’t feel any of his own aches and pains, he wouldn’t believe it either. “I guess I’m fine too,” she sighs.

“Good.”

General Skywalker, on the bunk across from Commander Tano’s, shifts uncomfortably and then rolls onto his back, lets out just a small, panicked gasp, and the Commander gets up, quickly, and goes over to him. Rex frowns, because General Skywalker doesn’t look good - hasn’t looked good since they came back to the ship.

“Having a nightmare?” Commander Tano says, touching his shoulder; he jumps out of bed with almost a pained sigh - then the ship jolts a little and General Kenobi calls back to them (completely heedless of the fact that the General and Commander both stumbled halfway across the cabin; Rex, leaning against the wall, just sways and smirks a little).

“If you’re done napping, I could use a little help here.” Kenobi sounds, as always, wry and exasperated.

“Coming,” Skywalker grumbles, starting for the cockpit. Rex shakes his head, looks down to hide an inappropriately amused smile at his General’s expense.

Ahsoka  _ gasps _ , pinched, and her hand grabs hard and fast around his bruised wrist. He jolts his head up, and there’s  _ Dark, the Son _ . A grip around her throat tight as the one around his hand. Rex instinctively jolts back except there’s nowhere to go, and the thing isn’t looking at him, it’s looking at his General. And she’s struggling and gasping and scrabbling at Rex’s skin and it hurts, he hurts, he’s choking on  _ cold _ and he can’t  _ do anything _ .

“Leaving so soon?” the Son purrs, and Ahsoka tries to twist away from him but he pulls her back by that shoulder almost  _ gently _ , and he needs to  _ let her go, please please please _ . Her grip on Rex’s hand doesn’t hurt so much anymore - because it’s failing, because her cries have gone thready and choked. The Son suddenly lifts her a little, out in front of him, like he’s inspecting her, twists his lips in a cruel almost-smile, and the movement yanks her hand off Rex’s wrist and it’s all he can do not to lunge for her. “Not without this, you won’t.”

Then suddenly the kriffing bay doors open, and no, oh no, he’s going to drop her again, and Rex moves a desperate half step forward, feels Ahsoka’s flailing hand against his wrist again as the Son tilts her over the abyss and  _ no, no, no _ , he can’t, and Rex grabs onto her hand because he’s going to catch her, it’s going to be fine-

And she’s yanked away from him, flush against the Son, hand tearing out of grip even though he  _ tries _ , he tries  _ so hard _ to hang on, and the Son tips silently into the dark- but Ahsoka’s not quiet, she’s  _ screaming _ , “ _ Rex!” _ and he is  _ not letting her fall _ so he dives across the floor, onto his stomach, throws his hand out the doors like that could do any kriffing good.

Because she’s gone. Again.  _ Gods _ .

So he shoves himself back to his feet, follows Anakin in rushing to the cockpit, and his General slides into the copilot’s seat. “The Son took Ahsoka,” and Rex leans against the back of their seats and Kenobi  _ doesn’t get it _ fast enough.

“What in the blazes are you talking about?”

And the Son is getting away, is  _ gone _ , and who the kriff  _ cares _ if Kenobi gets it, they need to  _ get her back _ .

Thank the gods, Anakin grabs control of the shuttle with a harsh,  _ “Move, _ let me fly,” and they twist in the air so fast Rex staggers, and they dive down into the mist after Ahsoka.

~~~

When the Son first wraps his hand bruisingly strong around her throat, Ahsoka  _ fights, _ she does, and she latches onto Rex’s wrist out of instinct, because he’s safe and he’s close and she trusts him, he’ll help her, he’ll save her, he won’t  _ let her fall. _ Except the Son just tightens his fingers and she can’t  _ breathe _ and she’s choking, gasping, can’t get a shred of air past her lips and no, no, please no, please please please she  _ can’t breathe, _ and--

“Not without this one, you won’t,” the Son says, tips her back a bit like he’s gesturing with her, twists her so she’s forced to let her (failing) hand slip from Rex’s wrist, and then the bay doors open and he  _ holds her out over them _ and no no  _ no _ she can’t, won’t fall again, and there’s nothing but icy wind beneath her boots and she whimpers, reaches out for Rex’s fingers, barely catches his wrist, and she  _ tries so hard _ to hold on when he grabs her hand  _ hard. _ She tries, she does, she tries so hard, clings to him with all the fading strength left in her bones (there’s blackness dancing around the edges of her vision and her lungs ache and her chest feels like it’s about to  _ explode), _ but then she’s  _ ripped _ away from him (no no no please no not again) and he’s still got her by the throat and  _ no _ it burns but he wraps his other arm tight around her chest (like a cage, like a prison), and there’s a line of fire burning across her skin wherever he touches, and then he  _ tips _ and they’re  _ falling _ headfirst for the ground and she  _ screams, “Rex!” _ because  _ please please please don’t let me fall it hurts _ and she  _ wants him, needs him, _ he’s  _ safe _ and  _ please-- _

And then the Son  _ shifts _ in midair,  _ drops _ her and catches her around her biceps with his clawed feet, and she  _ howls _ because it  _ burns, _ flames in her very bones, and he’s stretching her arms and her shoulders until she thinks she must  _ snap _ in half like a child’s toy, and he’s  _ laughter _ and  _ ice _ in her mind,  _ what’s the matter, little Jedi, are you  _ **_scared?_ ** and no, no,  _ no. _

He  _ almost _ slams her into the rock spires and she screams, screams, screams,  _ please Rex, Anakin, Master, somebody,  _ **_anybody,_ ** but there’s only his silky laugh, ancient and unyielding, and then he  _ jolts _ forward into the fog and something floods her mind with  _ black. _

When she wakes, she’s cuffed to a wall, metal around her wrists and ankles, stretching her arms and legs nearly to the breaking point, and she  _ fights _ the restraints a moment, tries desperately to free herself, because she  _ has to get free, _ except--except there’s no  _ give _ and she’s choking on short, ragged breaths, tears threatening to spill over onto her cheeks, and  _ no, _ she won’t, can’t let them. She won’t. “You  _ cannot _ keep me here!” she shouts, desperate, hopes her voice isn’t shaking as much as she is. “You hear me?”

“Save your energy,” a voice whispers, soft and rough and ragged, and she jerks her head around to see a strange, small, hairless creature slipping towards her. “You have been… left to die.”

Which  _ can’t _ be true. She throws herself weakly against her restraints again (everything  _ hurts), _ snarls out, “Then I  _ will _ escape,” except she still feels like she’s about to cry.

“Impossible,” the creature says, immediately, almost before she’s even finished speaking. He chuckles a little, faint, runs his fingers over one overlarge ear, takes a few more lilting steps towards her. “I have been here for more years than I care to remember,” and he gestures with skinny arms, long spindly fingers, creeps towards her more.

She draws back against the wall, sucks in a desperate (aching) breath through her bruised, battered trachea. “I am a  _ Jedi,” _ she manages, and there’s anger and Dark and cold in the air and fear and she reaches for it, uses it, because it’s the only thing she can even  _ feel. _ “We don’t give up that  _ easily.” _

_ “Jedi?” _ the creature says, sounds amused, surprised, and it tilts its head to one side. “Huhhhh. But so  _ young,” _ and it reaches out one hand towards her, almost like it’s about to trail its fingers down her stomach, to her ‘sabers. “Where  _ is _ your Master?”

It slides around to her right side, presses almost until it’s touching her leg, reaches its hands up towards her arm, and she pulls away, instinctive, horrified by something she can’t even begin to name. “He will come for me,” she growls, reaches for more anger, leans her face towards the  _ thing _ as it climbs the wall, straddles her arm.

And it _shifts forward,_ _towards_ her, until its snoutlike nose is nearly touching her montrals, its breath shivering over the sensitive, scaly skin (and she _shudders_ in revulsion, tries to back away, but there’s nowhere to _go),_ murmurs, “And… if he… does not?”

She clutches the anger close, burns away the sickness in her stomach. “He  _ will!” _ and it’s  _ her _ turn to shove into the creature’s space.

It turns its head away from her, just a little, and she can  _ breathe _ for a moment, but then: “What makes you so…  _ sure?” _ and it leans  _ back _ again, pushes its snout, its fleshy lips, close to her face, so close its fetid breath wafts up her nose, and the hand not on the wall stretches out over her chest, close enough to touch (no, no, no!).

And then it  _ leaves, _ climbs further up, and there’s horror shivering across her skin but her restraints unlock and she can  _ finally _ pull free from the wall, though the heavy durasteel bands stay latched tight around her wrists. She can at least rub the sore, badly bruised spots, though that offers only the slightest modicum of comfort, and she pulls away from the wall, twists a little, breathes out, “Thank you.” Because she doesn’t think she could stand one more  _ second _ trapped there.

And then the creature  _ speaks, _ its voice coming from  _ behind her, _ and she turns away from the wall to see it dragging the knuckles of one boney hand on the floor, the other rubbing its hip. “Chains?” it murmurs, smooth and velvety, sounds almost  _ familiar, _ “The chains are the  _ easy _ part,” and it drops its other hand to the ground, too, looks down. Almost downcast. And then it speaks again, straightens up and catches and  _ holds _ her eyes (and there’s something icy and Dark and insidious cold and deep in her thoughts, worming its way through her bones, her blood, and she shivers), and she can’t help taking a step or two towards it, bending down a little. “It’s what goes on up  _ here,” _ and it taps the top of its head with one long claw, “that’s hard.” And it begins to circle her, slowly (and something in her screams  _ enemy!). _ “Don’t you  _ see, _ child? You… are  _ alone, _ now.” It reaches up one hand, trails its clawed fingers down her inner forearm to catch her wrist, ever-so-lightly (the same hand Rex grabbed, trying to hold onto her, and  _ no _ she doesn’t want it  _ touching her _ there or anywhere). But something holds her still, frozen, and she can’t pull away, even though her skin feels like it’s about to crawl off her muscles. Leave her flesh and blood and bone bare to the world, to get away from the  _ thing _ that’s  _ touching _ her, a gentle caress, like that time she’d been in the medbay and Rex had thought she was asleep and he’d traced the patterns on her cheeks with his fingertips--and  _ no, _ the very thought of this  _ thing _ touching her the way Rex does makes her want to  _ vomit, _ no no no, but she  _ cannot move. _ “If you are to survive, you must  _ forget  _ your Master.”

_ Forget, _ the air breathes, her head hums, and she closes her eyes, presses her fingers soft to her forehead, whispers, “I don’t think I can…” because she  _ needs _ to listen to this cold whisper in her montrals.

And then the creature’s hands are tight on her, suddenly, one around her hand and the other grabbing her elbow, tugging her down, and she snaps her eyes open just in time for it to  _ bite _ her-- _ through her bracer. _

_ “Ow!” _ she yelps, yanks back, grabs her arm below the puncture wounds (oozing with black blood), and there’s  _ ice _ and  _ fire _ flooding her veins, leaving her sick and shaky and lightheaded, and she reels back, gasps out, “What have you  _ done?” _

“You are  _ mine now,” _ it says, loud and laughing and  _ bold, _ and no. No no no!

She  _ breathes, _ a short sharp inhale, falls to her knees  _ hard, _ clutches tighter at her arm (it hurts it hurts it hurts she’s dizzy and sick and no no no please no she wants Anakin, she wants  _ Rex, _ please), and then there’s a  _ roaring _ wave of Darkness, of Storm, electricity and wild, sharp-edged Chaos, raw and ripping through her mind, and she doesn’t even have the breath to  _ scream _ against the pain--there’s so  _ much _ sparking over her skin and her body desperately seeks the only respite it can find: unconsciousness.

~~~

Rex strides out of the crashed shuttle after the Generals, focused on the beat of his footsteps ( _ one two three four _ ) so he’s not thinking about everything else (he couldn’t hold on, he couldn’t, he  _ wanted _ to, he  _ failed her _ ). Everything is dark, even more alien than where they had been before, spires of rock like reaching fingers creeping out of the ground.

“Any sign of him?” General Skywalker says. Rex has drawn his DCs, because they’re  _ useless _ here but they’re something.

“No,” Kenobi says, “but I think it’s obvious where he’s taken her.”

He’s right: the black tower with the green almost-eye at its summit that they’d almost hit. That’s going to be where she is. And they need to go there and get her back.

“We have to hurry,” General Skywalker growls, starting forward, and Rex strides after him ( _ one two three four _ ), because they need to get her back,  _ now _ , he doesn’t feel  _ good _ about this and his instincts say they have to  _ go get her _ .

“Anakin, this wasn’t a mistake!” Kenobi is  _ too cautious _ . Rex stops, turns, hopes his General chooses not to listen this time. “He brought us here for a reason - we must not get involved.”

_ Bantha kriffing shit _ . They are the only ones here for Ahsoka, and the General wants to stay  _ here? _

“Any conflict here could have dramatic repercussions for the universe at large.” And Kenobi looks sorry, and Skywalker looks torn, and Rex wants to growl  _ kriff the universe _ , because who  _ cares _ about some vague Jedi ideas about the universe, in the  _ real world _ (if this even qualifies), Ahsoka  _ needs them _ .

“I don’t care,” his General says, thank the little gods, “He’s too powerful for Ahsoka, I won’t leave her alone.” He starts walking again, Rex steps up next to his shoulder again ( _ one two three four _ ), and then karking General Kenobi catches Skywalker’s shoulder.

“We are in the middle of something we don’t truly understand. We’d be wise to confer with the Father first.”

General Skywalker just turns away, tense. “There’s no time.”

And he’s right, there’s not. Not if they want to save her, not if she’s going to be okay.

“ _ This is what he wants _ ,” Kenobi says, earnestly. “To divide us.”

Skywalker whirls on him, startles Rex a little, face twisting in a pained snarl. “It’s  _ my fault _ he took her!”

That is not true. Skywalker isn’t the one who let her go.

Kenobi sets his hand on Skywalker’s shoulder, like Rex would with one of his panicking  _ vode _ , and Rex  _ wants _ to be angry with him but he can’t quite manage it, because Kenobi looks so much less  _ sure _ than he usually does. “You must feel how strong this part of the planet is with the Dark Side. The Father will know what to do.” And he turns away. As if that is enough reason to  _ go _ , to leave Ahsoka in that damn tower by  _ herself _ . They can’t trust the “Father,” the same old man who wanted General Skywalker to choose between the two people he cares about most for some damn  _ test _ .

And Skywalker, apparently, agrees. “He can’t help us,” and he keeps walking.

Finally.

Kenobi doesn’t try to stop them, and Rex tightens his fingers around his DCs, around security and protection (useless). They’ll  _ get her _ .

…

It’s a long climb (but not so long as they’d started to think it might be) before Rex’s General stops, looks at the strange, dead courtyard in front of them and says Ahsoka is close. He drops down from the wall, Rex following suit, and runs toward a strange raised dais with one lone tree (a tree with leaves, like it’s partly alive  _ here _ , of all places). Rex realizes why just a second after breaking into a run himself; he recognizes Ahsoka’s lithe figure seated on the edge of the dais, back to them - she’s meditating, or at least, that’s what her position would suggest. But something doesn’t feel  _ right _ , and she’s a  _ prisoner _ , so it can’t be this simple, must not be.

“Ahsoka,” General Skywalker says, slowing to a stop closer to her (and Rex thinks at least his General is being less reckless than usual, thinks it’s this  _ place _ ). She doesn’t  _ move _ , and Rex grits his teeth, checks behind them and above them for the Son, for any sign of danger. Skywalker’s still more cautious, says, sharper, “Ahsoka! It’s me. You’re safe now, let’s go.”

Rex’s instincts say  _ wrong, wrong, wrong _ . She’s not safe, something’s not right.

“Are you…  _ proud _ of me, Master?” Ahsoka says. She does not sound like herself.

“What?” and Rex wants to tell Anakin not to answer, because this is a trap, this is definitely a trap, he just doesn’t know how. “Um, yeah, ‘course Snips, of course I’m proud of you, now let’s get out of here.”

Ahsoka only moves a little, just lifts her head, but some animal terror in Rex’s mind says  _ go, now _ . But he can’t, they can’t, not till they  _ get her _ . “He’s right,” she says, heavy. “Right about everything. You  _ must _ join him.” And  _ finally _ she turns, gets to her feet, and she’s moving all wrong and Rex thinks he can see gleaming tear tracks on her cheeks, a few droplets still studding her lashes. Her eyes are sharp, harsh, yellow the color of sick, and her skin looks as if someone’s taken a stick of charcoal and traced all her veins, all lined with black and sickly. She cocks her head and folds her hands together like a little girl smiling up at them, except her face is a grimace and she purrs, “He only wants what’s best for the universe.”

_ No. _ Rex wants to run and grab her and shake her, get back the blue eyes and cheerful voice.

“Hey,” Anakin says softly, a little desperate. “What’s wrong with you?”

She rolls her eyes, exaggerated. “Always with the  _ criticism _ , Master,” shifts forward, suddenly threatening, like a snake, “never  _ really _ believing in me,  _ trusting  _ me.” She starts to pace, and Rex shifts his thumbs over his DCs, switches them to ‘stun.’ “Well, I don’t need you anymore,” she says turning around, and Rex, in a daze, settles into a battle-ready stance.

“Ahsoka, Ahsoka. Listen to me, he’s  _ done _ something to you. Snap out of it!” Anakin says, desperately. “This isn’t you, Ahsoka!”

“ _ Isn’t it?  _ I feel more like myself than I ever have,” she purrs, half deadly, half jovial, running her hands over her face and montrals and sides, then flinging her arms out beside her like she’s  _ delighted _ with herself. (And none of it’s her, she’s - it’s? - wrong, this isn’t  _ her _ , has never been, he doesn’t recognize hardly anything about her.)

“ _ Ahsoka _ ,” he tries, finds it’s easy to say her name because maybe she’ll listen to  _ that _ , at least. (It’s a long shot.) “Ahsoka, you know he’s right. You’ve gotta come with us.”

She twists around with almost a drunken, swooping step, smiles at him ( _ not right _ ). “Look at you. Poor little Rex, always so inferior. You can’t help your  _ Jedi _ ,” and she waves her hand dismissively at Anakin and Rex wants to be sick because she can’t say his name like that, he’s always liked the sound of his name when she says it, but not now, “and you can’t save your ‘vode,’ and you  _ certainly _ can’t save  _ me _ .” She laughs a little, and Rex takes an involuntary step back, finds he’s shaking. What’s  _ wrong _ with her, what did the Son  _ do? Please. _

“Ahsoka,” he says, desperately, “We can help you, you just have to come back with us.”

“I don't  _ need _ your  _ help _ ,” she snarls. “I've never wanted  _ anything _ from you.”

And it's not her, not true, but Rex pulls back nonetheless, something twisting up tight and pained in his stomach, because she's  _ right _ , he's never  _ really _ been able to help her and he doesn't know why he'd thought she'd listen to him when General Skywalker, her Master, could not.

_ I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I should have caught you, Ahsoka. _

~~~

Poor little Rex, poor little  _ Master, _ never understanding, never  _ seeing. _ None of them ever  _ saw. _ Ever saw her  _ potential, _ her power, what she  _ could _ be. Not like  _ he  _ does. (He doesn’t.) “He gave me a  _ message _ for you,” she purrs, focuses in on the one who she was  _ forced _ to call Master--but no more. Never again. “He said, if you don’t join him, he’ll  _ kill me!” _ And she  _ giggles, _ presses one hand dramatically to her lips, but she’s not  _ unfocused. _ She still sees when the  _ Captain _ (her Rex that’s  _ her Rex _ please) jerks up his blasters like he’s made a decision, squeezes the triggers and fires a pair of stun blasts at her. She flips over them, easily, gracefully, the Force flows through her like blood and she is fast and she is strong and she is so, so  _ powerful. _ It’s  _ effortless _ to flick her wrist, toss little Rex--Force-blind and far out of his depth--into the courtyard wall, to smile, smirk really, as she does it. (And no, no, no,  _ please no, _ not Rex, please not Rex, she doesn’t want to hurt him, not her Rex, he’s  _ her Rex _ and please please please.)

“I won’t  _ let him,” _ Anakin Skywalker says, and she can’t help it: she  _ laughs, _ long and gleeful.

“Then  _ you’ll _ have to kill me!” she says, cheerful and threatening (no no no), drops the smile from her face like a mask and summons her green lightsaber to her hand. Ignites the blade.

_ Lunges. _

A single Force-jump has her bringing the ‘saber down  _ hard _ on Skywalker’s (no, she doesn’t  _ want to do this, _ he’s her  _ Master, _ please no), and he blocks but not well, not strong, and she lunges forward, forward, forward, with wild abandon. Slice, strike, parry, block, forward forward forward. Furious and focused and passionate.

“I don’t want to  _ fight you, _ Ahsoka,” he says (she doesn’t want to fight him either, please), and she  _ flips, _ drives her boot into his chin and he goes flying, his saber clatters to the floor and she handsprings away.

Settles into a low crouch, leg stretched far out to the side,  _ smirks. _ Because he is pitiful and pathetic, like all Jedi, like all mortals. He is down on his knees, panting,  _ lost. _ Ended. She  _ smiles, _ pushes herself to her feet, reignites her blade again. “And now,” she says, savors the words, “the  _ student _ will kill the  _ Master.” _

Skywalker snaps one hand out to the side, calling for his lightsaber--the casing soars between her legs and she  _ leaps, _ flips midair and comes down  _ hard _ with her ‘saber outstretched, except he ignites his blade and catches hers,  _ kriff it, _ stands, says, “Getting a little ahead of yourself there, Snips.”

(Skyguy, save me, please!)

(Please help, please, please, please, Master, please help me, I can’t do this--)

“Don’t  _ call me that!” _ she snarls, fierce, pushes her blade against his firmer, tightens the bladelock. “I  _ hate it _ when you call me that!”

And she reverses her ‘saber, spins, almost slices him in half but he  _ blocks, _ and damn him. Damn him and damn his skills and damn his arrogance and  _ damn him _ for being so  _ selfish _ and refusing to  _ die! _ He twists his saber, knocks hers out of her hand--she  _ runs _ at him, leaps up his shoulders, flips over him, lands on the wall. Holds up one hand and  _ waits _ for the ‘saber to fall into it, ignites the blade, calls for her shoto, spins and settles into stance.

And there is _Kenobi,_ now, with Skywalker, and she _smirks._ _“Two Jedi?_ Finally, a _challenge.”_

And there is no hesitation, no pause, when she engages them. (Please, help me… I can’t hold  _ on, _ Master, please…) Everything is fluid and precise and perfect, powered by passion and rage and hatred, and she  _ snarls _ and  _ laughs _ and taunts them as she spins, dances across the courtyard, so easy, so fluid. So perfect. He will be very proud of her. So proud.

She’ll show them.

She’ll show them  _ all. _


	3. Chapter 3

Everything  _ hurts _ , everything hurts so  _ much _ , but Rex finds awareness somewhere and then he sets his hands against the stone ground and  _ pushes _ (and it hurts, it hurts,  _ gods _ ), gets himself up, on his feet, swaying and aching, but  _ focusing _ .

He fumbles for his blasters, sees Ahsoka fighting Kenobi and Anakin in the middle of the courtyard, no more than a blur of light and movement, too much for him to make out, and he starts towards them, unsteady but  _ determined _ .

There’s a moment when two blue sabers are separated from Ahsoka’s green and yellow, hers driven into the ground, and Kenobi holds out something long and silver that gleams strangely in the dark, and Rex moves faster, pushes himself to lock all the pain into some corner of his mind. It does not go easily.

There’s an echoing roar, something with a thread of a voice that he thinks is Ahsoka’s:  **_“Where did you get that?”_ ** A pause, then,  **_“Give it to me!”_ ** and she’s moving again, and it’s all a blur but he can follow it more, better, and then-

Then the window above them shatters, and two shapes, vaguely human, slam into the ground too near him, the glowing form of the Daughter staying still, the  _ Son _ surging to his feet almost at once.

Rex does the only thing that makes sense: he scrambles towards his Generals, towards what is at least the relative safety of their sabers, of not being  _ alone _ .

The old man, the Father, lands on the dais, a pair of curious wings folding behind his back, and the Son is  _ growling _ .  _ “So glad you could make it to our little party, Father!” _ and lightning flashes red and impossible from his fingers, only for the Father to catch it, stop it, and Rex  _ does not want to be here _ while gods fight.

**“You** **_will_ ** **stop this,”** the Father says.

“You are  _ too weak for me, old man _ . You mean nothing to me anymore,” the Son answers, and Rex sees Ahsoka  _ smile _ , watch the conflict with almost an eagerness, like a carrion bird waiting for something to die.

And then the Father’s feet slip, the electricity surges, and the old man falls. The Son is casually triumphant, moves towards him, and Ahsoka is still, still, like she’s waiting for orders. Rex wants to help her, wants to talk to her, but he can’t pull his eyes away from the Son as he leans forward and lightning turns blood-red, and the old man is  _ dying _ and Rex does not know what it means, when a god dies, but this is not good.

Then Kenobi speaks, holds up a long silver blade (the thing he was brandishing earlier, then), says “Anakin! Now!” and throws the weapon through the air.

And Ahsoka gets her orders, flings herself through the air, neat and precise, snatches the blade out of the air and rolls to her feet in a low crouch, sends back a mocking, dangerous smile,  _ look what fools you were _ , and raises the weapon a little in salute.

The Son turns to her, looks down at her like he’s  _ proud _ , and why can’t Rex ever  _ do anything? _ “ _ Everything has transpired exactly as I planned.” _ The Son cups one hand over Ahsoka’s cheek, casual, smiling, and Rex can’t breathe, wants to be sick, because the Son is too close to her and  _ touching _ her and she’s  _ still smiling _ like she has wanted this for a long time, but he  _ can’t _ . Ahsoka is not his, the Son cannot  _ touch _ her like that, like he's  _ pleased _ . Rex clenches his fists, but he can’t  _ move _ against the icy cold strangling him.

The Father gets unsteadily to his feet, points at the blade Ahsoka holds in her fist (and she could stab the Son with it, she could, so why  _ isn’t she _ ?).  **“You… showed them the Altar?”**

_ “I’m sorry, Father,” _ the Daughter says, and finally Kenobi helps her off the ground, and she moves forward, and Rex hates  _ all  _ of them.  _ “I didn’t know how else to stop him.” _

The Son does not pay any mind to that, just smiles at Ahsoka like they share a tantalizing secret, and Rex takes a few steps forward.  _ Let her go. _ Ahsoka turns a little, smirking, and there’s no  _ point _ to that except it hurts. She meets his eyes, looks at Anakin.

“Ahsoka, no!” Anakin says.

But there is no point. She looks away from them, and she hands the blade over, and the Son twists it through the air with an elegant motion and Rex thinks he’s going to drive it into Ahsoka’s chest and he  _ cannot reach her _ . “Thank you,” the Son hums. “Your usefulness has come to an end.”

_ No. _

And he touches her again, her head, doesn’t even  _ look _ at her, and in a blink, she falls. And the saber clatters out of her hand.

_ No! _

“No!” Anakin springs into motion at the same moment Rex does, because they have to get to Ahsoka  _ now _ , maybe they can save her, but the Son waves his hand and Anakin flies back, hits the ground and skids like he’s never fought a day in his life.

But Rex is useless, Rex is no threat to anyone, so he is left alone. The Son has moved on to other things, is talking, but Rex doesn’t  _ care _ . He doesn’t.

Ahsoka’s just lying on the ground on her side, so small, the charcoal lines gone, and he fumbles to his knees (he  _ hurts _ ), grabs her around the shoulders and pulls her into his lap, reaches for a pulse or a whisper of breath or  _ something _ , but there is nothing. Just her limp and beginning to be cold. And he couldn’t  _ do anything _ in the face of this, he let her go and now she’s  _ dead _ , and he- and he- he can’t think about it. Except it won’t go away if he doesn’t. “Ahsoka,” he says, very quietly, like  _ names _ could help right now. It won’t. He doesn’t stop anyway. “Ahsoka, come on.”

Then there’s a feeling, in his chest and somewhere deeper, like something  _ vital _ being snuffed out, and a terrible shrieking cry, and he turns to see the Son leap into the air and disappear, and the Daughter… The Daughter with the silver blade lodged in her chest. Suddenly, nearly the full weight of the Force is arcing electric against his skin, in his thoughts again, roaring with Dark and cold and it's  _ too much _ again, even with Kenobi’s shields. Anakin and Kenobi run over to him, and the Father lays the Daughter down close to them, and Rex should maybe let go of Ahsoka and let Kenobi look at her, but there is nothing to fix. He  _ knows _ . He can feel it now in the too-present Force.

Everything is  _ going _ \- the leaves on the tree in the middle of the dais start to fall into dust and Anakin is checking Ahsoka for a pulse too, of course finds  _ nothing _ .

**“My Daughter,”** the old man says.  **“What have I done?”**

_ “Do not hate him, Father. It is his nature,”  _ she answers.

Rex  _ does _ hate.

“Can you help her?” Anakin says. And it's true that the Daughter healed her before, maybe… maybe the Father could.  _ Please _ .

**“There is no Light. An evil has been unleashed.”**

Rex rubs his hand over Ahsoka’s shoulder (and her skin is so cold,  _ no _ ).

“You must help her!” Anakin cries, Rex can hear a  _ please _ hanging on the end of his sentence.

**“I cannot undo what is done. There is no hope.”**

“Yes there is! There’s always hope!”

Not for this. For other things, maybe. For leaving. For getting out of here, maybe for killing the Son. But not for Ahsoka.

But then the Daughter moves. As gentle and kind as the Son had been careless, she traces her Father’s cheek, reaches out with the other hand toward Ahsoka.

Oh,  _ gods. Please _ .

The Father stands, moves between the Daughter and Ahsoka, and gestures for Anakin to come join him. Kenobi touches Rex’s shoulder, tries to get him to move, but Rex will  _ not _ . Just shifts so he’s holding her where Anakin can reach her.  **_“Then let my Daughter’s last act be to breathe life into your friend.”_ **

Anakin touches the Daughter’s forehead with one hand, then after a breath, touches Ahsoka’s with the other.

And everything is  _ too bright _ . Rex can feel sweeping warmth, almost a breeze, the smell of summer on Naboo and a pulse against his skin of  _ peace _ . Ahsoka arches in his grasp, and there’s a  _ hot _ , almost electric feeling around her. It last for too long and not long enough, warmth and light and softness and safety, then all goes still.

Ahsoka slumps again, and Anakin grabs her hand, bows his head. Rex closes his eyes, because that is it, then. Their last option, gone.

And then she’s coughing, spluttering awake, her eyes so, so, so blue, and Rex drags her up into a hug before he thinks it through, cradles her against his chest and feels the rhythm of her breath. She’s okay, she’s okay, she’s okay. He didn’t lose her, she’s alive,  _ kriff _ . He can’t breathe, he almost thinks he’s crying, he doesn’t know. He frees one hand, yanks his helmet off so he doesn’t scare her, and lets her go a little so Anakin can lean forward, over his legs, and tug Ahsoka into his arms.

She’s  _ alive _ . He didn’t completely fail her, not in this. Not this time. “ _ Oya _ ,” he says, very soft.

~~~

She is scattered pieces of herself, blowing wild on the wind, lost to the current of the river, to  _ freedom. _ There’s something warm and bright, reaching, wrapping, gathering, trying to pull her together, knit the shattered bits of herself back together again, but she resists, she wants to  _ stay, _ wants to be free and calm. There is nothing here, no pain, just endless eternal  _ peace _ and a sort of knowing, that all things are together and apart, that this is energy and life and death and the balance between everything that is good and evil in the universe, and she  _ wants to stay. _

But she cannot fight it, the pulse of  _ healing, _ and it brings her bones together again, from dust, weaves her memories back into a tapestry of  _ Ahsoka, _ and then there is  _ awareness, _ all at once, of something small and limiting, of  _ pain _ and cold and hurts too myriad to count (he doesn’t let her feel her pain when she fights). Of  _ breaths, _ and suddenly it’s a fight just to keep her lungs inflating, and she clings to something hard and molded (plastoid) beneath her fingers. Of a shoulder beneath her cheek (Anakin, Master).

There is something she wants.

Something, someone, connected to the wrist she’s got in one hand, and she pulls carefully away from… Anakin? and looks around at the courtyard (she is so small, so tiny, so cold) and shivers a little. “What’s… going on?” She shouldn’t be here. She should be back in the river, in the wind. Where she belongs.

Except there’s someone… Rex, staring almost  _ desperately _ at her with tears on his cheeks, and he doesn’t  _ cry, _ she can’t quite understand it, but he slips one arm around her back again and she goes willingly into his embrace, leans heavily against his chest, uncurls her hand from his wrist so she can wrap one arm around his waist and lift the other, shaking, to wipe the tears away. “Don’t cry, Rex,” she whispers, faint, and it takes so much  _ effort _ to talk, to find words, and she lets her head thump lightly down onto his shoulder. His arms tighten around her and he takes a shuddering breath, tilts his head just a little to lean into her montrals, and she can  _ feel _ him breathing.

“Nothing much,” Anakin says roughly. “Glad to have you back with us, Snips.”

“Skyguy,” she mumbles, into Rex’s neck, holds on harder. (If she hadn’t  _ let go _ she would’ve, she could’ve--she almost  _ killed them all, _ almost killed  _ Rex, _ she  _ said things _ and.) “Rexter. ‘M  _ sorry.” _

It’s the best she can do.

She’s  _ tired, _ and everything feels  _ wrong, _ and she’s so  _ cold; _ she shivers and presses closer to Rex’s warmth and safety and protection, the security his arms around her offers, and struggles to breathe right. There’s that  _ voice _ again, more ancient and more steady than the stars, something about  **I will mourn all that I have done--and all that is still to come,** but she ignores it. She thinks they will have to go back to the… the shuttle, now, and she doesn’t want to walk. She is cold. Tired, small, but mainly  _ freezing. _

“‘M cold, Rex,” she hums, vaguely, shivers, hooks one hand into the front of his cuirass and holds tight. She doesn’t want to let go, to let him go. Not again. She almost  _ lost him, _ almost lost  _ herself. _ She can’t.

“I know,” he says, so soft, his voice low and quiet and a little choked still, and his arms tighten around her as he pushes himself, very carefully, gingerly, to his feet. He’s hurting, she can feel it, it’s  _ her fault, _ she threw him into the wall and now he’s hurt and that’s  _ her fault. _ All her fault. Only her fault. She should’ve  _ fought harder. _

Then a hand that does not belong to Anakin or Rex settles on her shoulder, brushes against her headtail, and she remembers a small clawed thing and its breath against her and she  _ flinches _ away, into Rex, into  _ safety. _ No. No, no, no,  _ not again, _ please no--and the hand pulls away, very fast, but she can’t relax, can’t stop the shaking. Not again, she can’t let that happen again, can’t, can’t, can’t, please don’t touch her. Not you, not safe, don’t. Please.

~~~

Ahsoka  _ jolts _ closer to him, trembling, and Kenobi pulls his hand back, look up at Rex and Skywalker with a concerned frown. Rex tucks her more snug against him, rubs her arm briskly, gritting his teeth, and shrugs a tiny bit. With how she's shaking from so small a thing - the Son must have hurt her somehow, badly.  _ I'm so sorry,  _ he thinks, hangs onto being angry so he isn't drowning in guilt.

Kenobi nods, like  _ we should go _ , and Rex decides they can worry about this when they're safe and out of here. He sighs and swallows, pushes himself into a walk (and he  _ hurts _ , oh kriff) so they can get back to the shuttle.

It's a fairly long walk, so by the time they get back Ahsoka has stopped shaking, is steadier, and Kenobi has explained to her (very gently) what happened to the Daughter, how the Daughter saved her. It doesn't help her trembling, the explanation, but she's still steadier by the time they get back to the ship - enough that he sets her down, lets her support half of her own weight (because he is  _ hurting _ , and she has to be able to stand again in case the Son finds them before they can leave) as they walk into the shuttle.

He hopes they can get it flying again. They have to get out of here.

~~~

“Snips,” Anakin says, catching Ahsoka’s attention, and she looks at him from where she’s leaning into Rex’s side, “I’m going to need you to fix the ship.”

She blinks, almost can’t comprehend the words. Sure, she’s a decent pilot, and good mechanically, but… her Master is a  _ mechanic, _ and way better at fixing things, and she’s still scattered.

Scattered, and lost, though Rex’s arm steady around her shoulders helps. Still. “Why me, Master?” she asks, tiredly. He’s  _ always _ making her do all the work--no, that’s  _ wrong, _ that’s not  _ her. _ That’s the Son’s voice, and she shakes her head to clear it. Hides the thought from Anakin, because she doesn’t  _ mean it _ and he doesn’t need to feel more guilt than he already does. Fixing the ship means letting go of Rex. She doesn’t  _ want to. _

“Because you’re the one who fits the easiest,” and she sighs, but fair enough. “Obi-Wan will keep watch for the Son.” Anakin’s unfolding one of the speeders.

She frowns. “Where are  _ you _ going?”

“To talk to the Father. If I don’t have his blessing to leave, I’ll regret it forever,” he says, quiet, intense, and then he hops on the speeder and drives off, fast.

Well, then.

With another sigh, a slow breath, Ahsoka untangles herself from Rex, enters the shuttle, puts her goggles on and grabs a spanner, a few wrenches, hops down inside the compartment. It’s a  _ mess, _ and she grimaces, selects a tool and gets to work.

She doesn’t want to be alone. (She can still hear the Son’s voice icy and laughing in the dusty crevices of her mind.) And there are a few things that’d be easier with an extra set of hands. And Master Obi-Wan needs to keep watch for the Son (isn’t safe). Her hands are shaking and she can’t quite  _ think _ and there’s still that whisper,  _ what makes you so sure? _ and breath huffing over her headtails, her montrals, and  _ chains are the easy part, it’s what goes on up here that’s hard--don’t you see, child? _ and  _ you are  _ **_alone_ ** _ now. _

At the memory of the creature’s claws and fingers on her arm, she  _ shudders, _ gags, barely holds back bile. She’s stronger than this, she  _ will not. _

But she doesn’t want to be alone.

She pokes her head out of the compartment, calls, “Hey, Rex, I could use a little help here,” ducks back down inside when he comes up the ramp, because his helmet is still off and he looks  _ worried. _ Something warm still crosses his face when he sees her, though, and he makes quick work of removing his kamas, gun belt, cuirass, and pauldrons before carefully lowering himself down next to her.

The compartment is barely big enough for the two of them, even with Rex minus most of his upper body armor. She tells herself this is the only reason she’s shifted so close to him that she’s brushing against his shoulder as she directs him to hold a piece in place while she reconnects it. “Is this all you needed?” he asks, looking down at her, and she can feel he’s amused. “Seems easy to me.”

_ Chains are the easy part. _

She  _ freezes, _ can’t swallow a whimper, feels herself grab onto Rex  _ hard, _ because if she doesn’t let go he can’t  _ take her _ again, and she  _ knows _ the creature (the Son?) isn’t  _ here _ but she remembers the  _ hunger _ in its eyes, remembers its breath over her cheek, remembers its claws like a caress on her palm, and she feels  _ sick. _ Feels dirty, disgusting,  _ unclean, _ and she’s shaking again, like a leaf in the wind, but she can’t  _ help it, _ and she clings tighter to Rex’s side, because he is  _ safety. _

~~~

“Ahsoka?” Rex wraps both arms clumsily around her, so  _ afraid _ for her, “I'm sorry, sir, what did I say? Are you okay?”

She's shaking so hard, fingers digging into his blacks for purchase ( _ fingers on his wrist and then the Son pulls her away _ ), and he soothes one hand up and down her back, careful and steady. “He chained me to the wall,” she says, and Rex’s stomach plummets and he tightens his grip on her a little.

“Okay,” he says. And he doesn't want to hear what the Son did to her, but he'll listen. Because she wants him to.

“This… this  _ thing _ came. It said… escape was impossible and it had been there for years.” She takes what should be a deep, steadying breath, but it's shaky and hitched and he can feel the rise and fall of her chest too fast and anxious. “And it said I was, was  _ alone _ , I'd been left to die.” She seems to choke a little, and Rex doesn't like this, but he stays quiet and certain because that's what she needs, he thinks. The Force is twisting violent-hot against his skin, feels  _ sick _ .

“It- climbed up on the wall next to me,” she continues, quieter, “and it kept- just, getting  _ too close _ and I couldn't  _ move _ and it was almost  _ touching  _ me and I didn't want it to.” She pulls one hand away from him for a moment, touches one headtail almost unconsciously. “And it… it let me go, and I thought it was good, but it said  _ chains are the easy part _ -” and her breath hiccups and she shudders violently, fingers spasming against his side, “-and it just, it… touched my wrist, and it was so  _ gentle _ and I wanted it to let go but I felt so  _ frozen _ . And then it just, it grabbed on  _ tight _ and bit me.”

Rex had noticed the holes in her bracer but, other than passing concern, had paid them no mind. “I'm sorry,” he says, inadequately, because she's  _ so frightened _ and it all sounds horrifying but he doesn't understand what the point was, what the “thing” was, what any of this  _ means _ .

She presses closer to him, shakes her head. “It  _ hurt, _ and the thing was laughing and I couldn't fight it, I couldn't even  _ try _ , and it said I was  _ his _ -” and she is not, she is no one’s, least of all the property of some crawling thing in the dark, “-and I think… I think it was the Son.”

The Son who’d eyed her with a nearly-loving pride, like he was so  _ pleased _ with her efforts, like he wasn't going to kill her as careless as blinking, with his insidious voice and his caressing fingers on her cheek where they do not belong.

Rex does not understand why the Son had played games with her like that, like a nexu that toys with its prey before killing it, but there's something viscerally horrified in his stomach and his instinct (the Force) says  _ this is wrong, this is sick, and she is afraid _ .

And he's too close to her, it's so tight in here and she said the thing was too close to her and he has her trapped in a tiny space and he should back off, so he pulls his arms from around her, eases a step back.

“I'm sorry, Commander,” he says, because he thinks she needs  _ space _ and he isn't totally sure  _ why _ but there's still disgust crawling icy across his skin. “I didn't mean to- I didn't know.”

~~~

Rex pulls back so  _ fast _ and at first she thinks maybe he blames her, maybe it’s  _ her fault, _ because she  _ let go, _ but then he speaks, says, “I’m sorry, Commander, I didn’t mean to--I didn’t  _ know,” _ and she realizes he thinks he scared her--when in reality nothing could be farther from the truth.

“Rex,  _ wait,” _ Ahsoka pleads, desperate, because  _ no no no _ he can’t go, Rex is safety and she  _ needs him. _ Needs his arms around her holding her close, needs his voice to drown out the Dark. “Please don’t go,” she whispers, faint, reaches out for him. “Don’t you remember, I said--you make me feel safe. You always have,” she admits, a little without meaning to, reaches for him more. She wants him.

“Okay,” Rex says, “Okay. If you’re sure.” She nods, and he hesitantly slips his arm around her again.

But it’s not  _ enough. _

She shivers, the cold she can’t seem to beat settling deep within her bones, takes another ragged breath, makes a semi-conscious decision to  _ kriff it, _ and maneuvers herself onto his lap, spares a second to tug her goggles off before wrapping both her arms around his chest and hiding her face against him. Whispers, “I’m  _ sorry,” _ though the words are muffled against him. “I didn’t mean any of it,” she tries to explain, “you aren’t inferior and you’ve saved us all so  _ much _ and I  _ do _ need your help, Rexter, I  _ want _ your help, I’m so sorry, I couldn’t  _ fight _ him--if I’d just been  _ stronger, _ if I’d held onto your hand none of this would’ve  _ happened, _ I’m so  _ sorry.” _

“It’s okay,” he says, soothes one hand up and down her spine, her back headtail, almost instinctively seems to shift her closer. “It’s okay, Ahsoka, it’s not your fault. You tried to hang on, I just--wasn’t strong enough to hold you. I’m sorry.”

She’s not sure whether it’s the soothing brush of his hand or the apology that undoes her, but suddenly she’s  _ sobbing _ into him, braced by his solid warmth and strength. “Master Yoda always says,  _ do or do not, there is no try,” _ she recites thickly, through the tears, “I couldn’t fight him, I tried--but it doesn’t  _ matter,” _ and she doesn’t want to talk but she doesn’t want him to blame himself, not her Rex. He needs to not blame himself. It wasn’t his  _ fault. _

~~~

“Sir, all due respect to Master Yoda,” Rex says, very, very carefully, “But I don't think that sounds right. You did the best you could-” he hesitates, “-we all did. But we don't belong here.”

“I didn’t want to say or do any of that,” she says desperately. “I didn’t want him to touch me or hurt you, I didn’t-”

“Yeah, I know.” Rex  _ aches _ , because this is so much, she deserves  _ better _ than this. “ _ Cyar’ika _ , I’m sorry, I know.”  _ Cyar’ika.  _ Oh,  _ kriff _ , he can’t call her that, she’s not- Never mind, don’t think about it, she doesn’t know what it means and he can just… he can forget he made that mistake. He stills his hand on her back, sighs a little.

She takes a shuddering breath, says, “I wanted him to be  _ proud _ of me, Rex,” heavily. And he is sick of remembering the Son’s satisfied smile and his hand curled possessive against her cheekbone, but he doesn’t think he’s going to forget it. “And he  _ touched me _ ,” she adds, like she’s seeing the same memory.

“I know,” he says, tries not to choke on the words. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, isn’t sure if he’s apologizing or simply… wishing it were different. Maybe both. He slides his hand up to rest against her shoulder, kneads his fingers absentmindedly into the muscles. She sighs, long and light, and snuggles into his chest more, arms tightening around his torso.

He’s  _ kriffed _ . She’s not gonna let him up anytime soon. He almost stops massaging her shoulder, except her breathing is evening out again, which he definitely wants. She needs to be  _ calm _ .

She might be  _ too _ calm, though, because after a few minutes of him massaging relaxing circles on her shoulder, he realizes she’s drifted off to sleep, face pressed into his chest, and when he tries, tentatively, to move, she just shifts and wraps her legs around his waist like… like the koala bear Fives had tried to adopt on Kashyyyk. The comparison makes him smile a little, although she is probably cuter than the fuzzy grey creature had been. And he doesn’t think he’s going to be able to get her off of him. Not without waking her up and, worse, frightening her. She has been through too much for him to do that if he doesn’t have to. Which he doesn’t, at least not yet - he can reach most of the panels in the compartment, probably, if he reaches, and although he knows precious little about mechanics, he can do the basics before she wakes up.

He carefully leans forward, trying not to jostle her ( _ kriff _ , right, he’s still hurt - but Kix is not here to patch him up, so he makes it not matter), and retrieves her tools, starts removing a particularly damaged section of wiring.

~~~

Obi-Wan hasn’t heard much going on from inside the shuttle for a while, now; that, combined with the fact that Rex hasn’t reemerged from whatever it was Ahsoka needed his help with, makes him rather  _ suspicious. _

Yes, Rex is a good man, a good Captain, but Ahsoka has always been  _ highly _ opinionated, and when she wants to do something, she typically does it without considering the consequences. Which is… rather like Anakin, honestly.  _ Why _ the Council thought pairing these two together would do anything other than  _ encourage _ their rash behavior is beyond him--and he is  _ on _ the Council.

Anyway, he’s more than a little concerned about what might (or might not be, in the case of  _ repairs) _ be happening inside  _ his shuttle, _ and the night is quiet and still, and in any case, he needs to know the state of repairs, so he climbs up the ramp quietly and enters the shuttle. 

Rex is down in the compartment working, but at first Obi-Wan doesn’t even  _ see _ Ahsoka, until he changes the angle he’s looking at and there she is, a splash of bright orange and white-and-blue markings, sound asleep, curled what he would  _ think _ is awkward and  _ uncomfortable _ around Rex’s torso, though from her calmly relaxed, peaceful expression he gathers she at least must find it satisfying. Which… is a problem. Once this mission is over, he’ll need to have a word with both Anakin and Rex about the situation. Ahsoka has always struggled with attachment; it will be better for everyone involved to cut off any problematic  _ feelings _ here and now, at the root, before they grow into something that will only ever hurt or waylay her. (He wishes it is what would have been done with his…  _ feelings _ for Satine--had Qui-Gon been less unconventional, perhaps the thought of her would not wound him even now.)

He sighs, crouches down near Rex, on the edge of the compartment, frowns a little at the Captain. “Your definition of ‘help’ seems to be much looser than mine,” he remarks, dryly.

The clone actually  _ flushes _ a tiny bit, which is… Obi-Wan blinks, though it’s actually kind of amusing, in a way. Rex actually  _ can _ be embarrassed, then. He stops his work, looks down at the floor for a moment, clearly uncomfortable, then lifts his chin and meets Obi-Wan’s eyes. “This wasn’t my idea of  _ help _ either, sir.”

Obi-Wan tilts his head, concedes the point. “What happened? I wouldn’t usually expect Ahsoka to simply  _ fall asleep _ in the middle of making vital repairs.”

“She’s tired,” Rex says,  _ almost _ sharply--there’s just a hint of defensiveness in his tone, though he keeps his voice quiet. “And she was upset. All due respect, sir, but she just  _ died.” _

“I am aware of that,” Obi-Wan says, calmly, steadily. It  _ is _ to be expected, really--it’s just that they don’t particularly have the  _ time _ for this, right now. “How are you with repairs?”

“I’ll have to wake her up in a bit,” Rex admits, “but for now I’ve got it, and she needs the sleep.”

She  _ does, _ it’s true. Hells, Obi-Wan himself, and  _ Anakin _ (who has in the past twenty-four hours channeled more Force than some Jedi do in their entire lifetime) as well could use the rest, but they simply  _ cannot _ afford it right now. “Carry on, then, Captain,” he says with a sigh and a nod. For now, he will let them have their peace; both of them will need it, if anything else goes awry (and in this hell, he’s really  _ expecting _ it), Ahsoka will need Rex’s stability and strength to keep her focused and able to  _ keep moving _ (as well as the brief respite this offers), and he thinks Rex will need this moment to just  _ breathe. _ So he will leave them, and discuss it later, after they are safe.

Rex acknowledges him with a nod, and Obi-Wan pushes himself to his feet, strides firmly back outside and takes a seat to watch and wait. 

He hopes Anakin gets back soon.

~~~

Rex does everything he can to the shuttle without jolting Commander Tano awake or breaking anything, which really isn’t much, then sighs and sits up, sets his hand on her shoulder and shakes her a little. Is easy and slow so he doesn’t startle her, and it mostly works: she flinches, but she looks up and focuses on his face, and carefully detangles herself just a little from around his waist; he almost thinks she’s blushing except he can’t really tell.

“I can’t do anything more to the ship,” he says, with a sigh. “It’s still kind of a mess. I did the best I could, though.”

Commander Tano doesn’t really seem to care about that, which isn’t ideal. They do still need to get out of here, as soon as possible - now that she’s awake, he wants her actually  _ awake _ . She sort of starts to get up - or at least he thinks she does; in actuality she just pulls her legs from around his waist, settles more sideways on his lap, and leans right back against his chest.

“Commander…” he sighs, trying not to smile, not quite managing it. “This is still a dangerous situation, sir, and we can’t get out of here until we fix the shuttle.”

“I thought you were gonna call me Ahsoka,” she mumbles, with almost a  _ hmph _ behind the words, and Rex swallows a little, shrugs.

“I said I would try,” he says, lightly. He did try. He thinks he likes it too much. He takes a deep breath, sighs, says, “If you want to get away from the Son, Ahsoka, you need to do this.”

To his faint surprise, she just pouts at him, like  _ how dare you _ , and buries her face back against his chest (and he wishes she wouldn’t, she’s too soft and warm with her sleepy blue eyes and clinging arms). “Well, I guess that’s what you’re here for,” she mumbles, and his chest hurts a little and he smiles because she can’t see although this is the  _ opposite of helpful _ , they really need to get the hells out of here.

“What does that mean?” he asks, snorting. He certainly can’t fix this ship, he tried already.

“In case he comes back,” she explains, sounds small.

And that  _ hurts _ , because if the Son comes back Rex can’t do  _ anything _ . “Ahsoka,” he says, gentle but as firm as he can manage, “You know I can’t protect you from him.” The only one who might be able to is General Skywalker, and General Skywalker isn’t back yet.

It’s been, what, an hour or so? And General Skywalker isn’t back.  _ Kriff _ , he doesn’t think that’s good. But one thing at a time. First they have to fix this damn ship.

“When you’re here,” Ahsoka says, still muffled against his blacks, “everything’s warm, and he made me cold first.”

That doesn’t  _ matter _ . What the kriff is Rex’s supposed  _ warmth _ going to do against that  _ thing? _ It certainly didn’t help before. “Sure,” he says, shortly, “But the General isn’t back and Kenobi is waiting on us to finish this and I want to go  _ home _ . So please can we just… fix this damn thing?” He needs to get them all  _ out _ of here, so Ahsoka doesn’t have to worry about being cold anymore and she can’t kriffing  _ die _ on him again and his  _ Generals _ aren’t out of their depths.

~~~

_ So please can we just… fix this damn thing? _

Ahsoka doesn’t  _ mean _ to jerk, but really, Rex has been smiling (he thought she wasn’t looking, the first time, but she  _ saw it) _ and warm, and she really didn’t  _ expect _ this. Expect him to get… she’s not even sure  _ what _ it is, but. “Yeah,” she murmurs, and really, she should’ve expected it. He doesn’t even--well, not that she should be  _ thinking  _ about this, but he doesn’t… he doesn’t seem to be even  _ remotely _ interested in her in…  _ that _ way. They’re  _ friends. _ That’s all. And that’s all she should  _ want _ them to be. She’s a  _ Jedi, _ she reminds herself fiercely, Jedi don’t have attachments, Jedi don’t… she quickly tugs her arms from around him (she never asked him if he was okay with that), doesn’t look at him, stares at her legs instead. “Yeah, sorry, Rex.”

She goes to move off of his legs (and  _ kriff, _ that’s embarrassing, she doesn’t remember much beyond  _ wanting him, _ needing him, and  _ safety, _ she must’ve crawled onto his lap like a--like a  _ kid _ or something, no-karking-wonder), torn between shame and anxiety, except Rex  _ moves, _ quickly, wraps an arm back around her shoulders and tugs her back against him, for just a moment. “I’m sorry, s--Ahsoka,” he says, quietly, runs his thumb in circles over her shoulder (and she should  _ not _ notice how nice that feels, how soothing). “I’m just--scared, and I want to go home.”

She swallows hard, leans into him a bit and nods, closes her eyes for a moment. “Yeah,” she chokes out, “me too.” She still doesn’t want to leave the protection and safety of his arms, but she forces herself to straighten up, slowly, though she sighs heavily. It’s when she’s starting to reach for the tools again (still not totally off his lap, though she’s trying to pretend she hasn’t noticed that, because once she  _ does _ she’ll have to make herself move) that her eyes catch on his hair again, and she remembers her earlier curiosity.

And Rex wants to  _ go, _ but she’s tired and too cold still and curious and she’s  _ always _ been impulsive, and so before she can really think about it, she looks up at him (blushes furiously), asks, “Rex, can I--feel your hair?” A pause, and then, “It’s just--” and she shifts, looks down again, “well, Togrutans don’t  _ have it _ and I’ve always wondered what it feels like and yours is--”  _ no _ she shouldn’t say that, that’s not a  _ Jedi thing _ to say, but the word is slipping out before she can stop herself “--pretty.  _ Kriff, _ I didn’t mean to actually say that.” And she claps a hand over her mouth, hard.

~~~

Rex’s brain, which has been running in increasingly dizzy circles since he realized General Skywalker still isn’t back, comes to a very abrupt and undignified halt on the question  _ can I feel your hair _ , and although it seems to be recovering when she explains why she wants to, it completely shuts down again when she says his hair is  _ pretty _ .

Sure, he puts a little more effort than is strictly necessary into dyeing it and keeping it buzzed short, and sure, he does it because he  _ likes _ it, but how  _ that _ translates into  _ pretty _ is very, very beyond him. He fumbles for an answer (because on this weird-ass planet, apparently he is expected to decide whether or not Ahsoka can pet him like he’s a loth-cat because she’s  _ curious _ ), rubs the back of his neck.

“I mean,” he says, awkwardly, “If you were curious about human hair, you could have just asked Tup.”

“But I like yours,” she says sheepishly, and what  _ is this _ even? “And Tup isn’t here.”

“No,” he agrees, pulls his hand away from his head to rest in his lap. Now is perhaps  _ not the best time _ for this, but then what’s the harm in satisfying her curiosity? “I mean… If you’re that curious?”

Ahsoka fidgets for a second, and Rex very helpfully looks at the ground and finds himself smiling a little again. This is weird.

Ahsoka’s hand drifts up to his head, careful, and then she sort of pokes him in the head (which makes him snort, despite himself), and then she rests her fingertips against the side of his head and brushes them curiously through his hair, and he doesn’t  _ exactly _ know what he expected but he didn’t think it would feel so soothing.

Next thing he knows she’s pulled her hand away with a short, small giggle and looked down at the floor, and he swallows down a laugh. “It  _ tickles _ ,” she says, just a little delighted, although she’s also blushing.

 

Rex snorts, shakes his head, and runs his own hand fast through his hair a few times to get rid of the sense-memory of her fingers against his head. “I don’t know what you expected, Commander,” he says wryly.

~~~

Ahsoka flushes, picks up a random wrench and fiddles with it, twisting a setting back and forth. What  _ had _ she expected? “I… don’t know either,” she offers, hesitant, peeks up at him through her lashes to see he’s  _ smiling _ at her, just a little. And also clearly not expecting her to look back up, because he meets her gaze for a second before quickly looking away. And she means to look down, but really, he’s looking away from her and his face is in perfect profile and he’s--

No. She cuts that thought off  _ right now. _ No using  _ those words _ to describe her--Rex. 

But what she  _ will _ allow herself to think is that--his hair isn’t the only part of him that’s  _ pretty, _ she decides, admi--no, she’s  _ observing. _ Observing him for a minute. Him and his hair.

Which really shouldn’t be so  _ interesting, _ but… Ahsoka chances a look back at his eyes again, sees he’s still not looking at her, and there’s still a breath of cold in the back of her mind (a trail of claws down her palm), and so, greatly daring, she reaches up and runs her fingers through his hair again (and it  _ tickles, _ but it feels--nice, really, soft but wiry), almost too lightly, giggles again. “It’s nice,” she declares, slides her hand down the back of his head, hooks her arm around his neck so she can shift closer and lay her head on his shoulder again. “I like it.”

~~~

Everything’s  _ fine _ until Ahsoka -  _ Commander Tano _ \- trades light, amusing touches for something  _ too much _ , her hand warm on the back of his head, and then she’s  _ too close _ , curls one arm around his neck and drops her head onto his shoulder, grinning, pleased with herself and her experiment. “I like it,” she says, a little shyly, the corners of her eyes crinkling, and part of him says he should kiss her there, and  _ no. _

_ No, _ he cannot do this, she’s too close and so happy and he can’t- he can’t-  _ It would be so easy to just _ -

“I should go see if General Skywalker is back,” he says, thickly, and gently takes hold of her arm and pulls it free of his neck, levering himself to his feet. He avoids looking at her because he knows he’ll see hurt and confusion but he can’t just _stay_ , he’s not _that_ _dikut’la_. He climbs out of the compartment, pushing everything _down_ , _haar’chak_ , out of the way, starts buckling his armor back on and grabs his helmet, jams it back on with a quiet curse, and paces to the cockpit to check if anything’s working (of course it’s not but it’s something to _do_ ).

~~~

Ahsoka just  _ sits, _ for a moment, stunned by Rex’s abrupt departure, by the  _ excuse, _ but she can’t get her lungs to work enough to call after him. What did she  _ do? _ Was something wrong? Maybe it was the hair, maybe she shouldn’t have asked, or maybe it was just--she’s a kid to him, a youngling. So of  _ course _ he left, when she was getting too… too much. He couldn’t stay.

She wants him to stay.

(She shouldn’t.)

She makes a halfhearted attempt to return to fixing the ship, but her mind won’t stop spiraling around and around, wondering what she  _ did. _ How did she mess this up so  _ much? _ She’d thought--it’d been  _ good, _ she’d thought, but maybe she was wrong. Obviously she was wrong, because he  _ left. _ Kriff it all.

And she doesn’t  _ mean to, _ but she slams her fist into the nearest wall not covered in important electronics,  _ hard, _ hard enough it  _ hurts, _ and swears. The sound echoes louder than she meant it to and she winces; Rex probably heard that. Damn. Now he knows she’s  _ frustrated, _ too, beyond the fact that here she was just--just  _ mooning _ over him like a, a lovestruck  _ puppy. _ Get it to-kriffing- _ gether, _ Ahsoka. He’s your  _ Captain, _ not--not anything else.

(Something deep and dangerous whispers _my Captain,_ possessive and--something else, and she _wants,_ she wants, she wants, but she--she needs to _stop._ Enough. It’s _ridiculous,_ it’s gone past some child’s crush on a teacher, this is starting to affect her _ability to work together_ _with_ her Captain, that’s not _good._ That will affect battlefield efficiency, which could _lose lives._ She’s got to _stop.)_

And then her commlink crackles.  _ “Look after the ship,” _ Master Obi-Wan says, sharp.  _ “I’m going after Anakin.” _

Well, kriff.

Rex is just in the cockpit, but she can’t look at him, can’t go see him, so she adjusts her wristcomm to his frequency instead. “Master Obi-Wan’s going after Anakin,” she says, fast and clear and as emotionless as possible (which is  _ not very). _ “He said to look after the ship. And no, I don’t know anything else.”

_ “Copy that, Commander,” _ Rex says, and she can almost hear him talking very softly into his comm from the cockpit.  _ “I’ll head out and keep watch, you finish up with the repairs.” _

“Already working on it,” she says. Listens to his footsteps as he passes her by, and only  _ then _ does she peer out over the edge of the compartment, watching his retreating back as he walks away.

What has she  _ done? _

~~~

It’s no easier being outside in the dark than it was being in the ship with Commander Tano; out here the Force is all lightning and prickling hail and sickness through his bones. Rex draws one blaster and sits down on a rough boulder a short distance away from the shuttle, rubs at the casing with his thumb. What a mistake, this whole  _ thing _ \- he’s been so  _ stupid _ . Cody should beat some sense into him, he can’t just karking  _ focus _ like a good trooper, can’t stick to  _ reality _ . Which is that clones are for fighting and dying and nothing else, and he doesn’t get to decide he doesn’t like that.

Whatever he thinks about the Commander doesn’t matter, has to be under control, because he has one role in all this and it’s being a Captain and following his orders and making sure he has his honor, if little else. And none of those things leave room for… for whatever he’d wanted back on the ship.

_ Her _ .

He shifts on his makeshift seat and focuses out at the darkened landscape, tightens his grip on his blaster enough that the solid weight of it is a comfort. He wants to be back on the  _ Resolute _ with his brothers, where things make  _ sense _ . Here it just burns and his head hurts and Commander Tano is too close and even the Generals can’t fight the thing threatening them.

He’s done, he’s  _ tired _ . He wants to go home.

~~~

_ “The Son has Anakin.” _

Obi-Wan’s comm comes through just as Ahsoka finishes her repairs, and she  _ freezes, _ has to drop down to sit on the floor. “What?”  _ The Son has Anakin. _ How is that even possible?

_ “Don’t engage him. I need you to disable the ship. Trace my comm signal and come pick me up.” _

She’s not sure what’s harder to understand. “But I just finished  _ fixing it,” _ she mutters, heaves a sigh. “Alright, Master, I’m on my way.”

She grabs the power converter from the cockpit, jogs outside, pulls out the last collapsible speeder. Can  _ feel _ Rex’s eyes on her even through his helmet, but she doesn’t look at him. Maybe, if she just pretends the whole encounter earlier never happened, everything will go back to  _ normal. _

“Is everything okay, Commander?”

“The Son has Anakin,” she says, shortly. “Master Obi-Wan says not to engage. I have to go get him, Anakin probably ruined his speeder. I’ve disabled the ship, got the power converter with me,” and she holds it up before tucking it back in her belt. “I’ll comm you once I’ve got Master Obi-Wan, we’ll make plans, alright?”

“Copy that, Commander. Stay--stay safe,” he says, quietly, and she looks over her shoulder. Nods once, because he needs it.

“I will, Rex,” she says, easily (it’s not easy), smiles. “I’ve died enough times today.”

And then she hops on the speeder and races off.

It’s a twisty, windy path through the rocks and mountains, but she’s able to track the comm signal easily enough, to the Well--so imbued with the Dark Side she hardly even needs the comm signal to find it. Obi-Wan is a splash of white clinging to the rocks about halfway up, and she brings the speeder in beside him, says, “Impressive.”

“We need to find Anakin,” is his response, and she nods, focuses on that goal, that objective, not the mess she’s made with Rex and her exhaustion and the way everything  _ hurts. _

“I agree,” she says, flies the speeder up to the ground level again before pausing. “I’ve got to comm Rex first, though.” She adjusts the frequency to Rex’s, takes a careful breath. “Rex, this is Ah--Commander Tano, do you read me?”

_ “Loud and clear, sir,” _ he says, but the cadence sounds just  _ slightly _ off and she frowns. But it’s probably just the adrenaline and the Force and everything he’s been through. (The Force, she thinks, doesn’t agree--but the Force is dark and shrieking and cold, and she doesn’t listen.)

“I’ve got Master Obi-Wan. How are things on your end?” she asks, and tries to sound calmly  _ detached. _

~~~

General Skywalker gets back before Commander Tano has been gone very long at all. He comes up on his speeder, parks it a little ways away, and Rex gets to his feet, wary. “Hey, sir,” he calls, and General Skywalker smiles and starts towards him.

“Hey, Rex.” he answers. Everything seems both fine and  _ very, very _ not fine, although Rex couldn't say  _ why _ it's not except Commander Tano said  _ the Son has Anakin _ and now he is here and his eyes look strange to Rex.

General Skywalker gets to him, plops down on the rock Rex had just been sitting on, and sighs. It's the color, Rex realizes - his General’s eyes have gone the same yellow as Commander Tano’s did when the Son had her, but he doesn't  _ seem _ like he's under anything’s influence, he's moving and talking like himself. Still, Rex sets his blaster to stun, sets his free hand on the other in its holster. “Where are Ahsoka and Obi-Wan?” Skywalker asks, sighing and tugging off one of his boots to turn it upside down. A bunch of rocks clatter out of it. Rex glances around like someone could give him the right answer.

“They went after you, sir,” he says, carefully.

Pulling his boot back on, swearing under his breath, Skywalker gets back to his feet, shakes his head. “Well, that's going to cost us some time. Is the ship fixed?”

Rex meets Skywalker’s strange eyes and tightens his grip on his blaster. “They said you were with the Son, sir.” He's more looking for a reaction to that than anything else.

Skywalker laughs, like Rex is being particularly slow, and claps him on the shoulder, shrugging. “They would be right, Rex. Can you do me a favor?”

Rex shifts his weight, carefully tightens his hands on his blasters, says cautiously, “What do you need, sir?”

And Skywalker says, in a tone like he regrets this, “Execute Order 66.”

For a long moment, nothing makes any  _ sense, _ everything's  _ jumbled _ , and then- then he's functional again.

CT-7567 has a very simple job to do. Good soldiers follow orders, and his should be easy enough.  _ Kill the Jedi _ . The General shakes his head slowly at him and starts to walk away.

“You have your orders, Rex,” he calls heavily, over his shoulder.

“”Yes, sir,” CT-7567 says. He glances back at the ship. It isn’t operational, so the Jedi can’t use it to escape. They don’t know he is coming. Both these things are advantages. Less so is the fact that he has only two blasters (regardless of the unauthorized modifications he's added to them) and is injured. It's clear that if he is to kill both Jedi ( _ good soldiers follow orders _ ), ‘67 will have to catch them unawares.

He goes back to the shuttle and checks the compartments for more weapons, and, thankfully, manages to secure a blaster rifle with good long-range sights. That will help.

He has the female Jedi’s comm frequency, so he tunes his wristcomm to the signal so he can track it. This planet is not a good place to work - it is distracting, with the Force (forbidden to good soldiers, and he is one, yet he can feel it, and he will have to be repaired if that does not go away) pressing on him and the unfamiliar terrain. Still, it's manageable, and he is still perfectly capable of carrying out his mission.

_ Good soldiers follow orders. _

_ Kill the Jedi, obey the General. _

Blaster rifle over his shoulder, he starts trekking across the stony terrain, following the signal toward the road the Jedi have all taken on their speeders. The signal is stationary, for the moment, which is good for him.

He needs to figure out what their plan is, and he considers comming the female one to ask, but no. She had told him she would comm him when she found the other Jedi, so it's simply a matter of waiting, and he will know where they are. They trust him, so it should be easy to get them somewhere where he can pick them off, if he is cautious.

CT-7567 is a very good shot.

“ _ Rex, this is Ah- Commander Tano, do you read me? _ ”

‘67 keeps walking as he answers. “Loud and clear, sir.”

“ _ I’ve got Master Obi-Wan. How are things on your end? _ ” The Jedi sounds shaky. That's promising.

“Everything's fine here, Commander. Did you find General Skywalker?” They will have failed their mission, which may make them sloppy - if they are rushing to rectify their failure, they won't be as wary.

“ _ In a way, _ ” the Jedi says. “ _ He pushed Master Obi-Wan’s speeder into lava. Have you seen any sign of him?” _

“No, sir,” ‘67 says.  _ Execute Order 66. Good soldiers follow orders. Orders are to kill the Jedi _ .

CT-7567 has not been a good soldier lately. But he is one now. And he has his orders.

He hears the other Jedi talking quietly, then the female Jedi speaks again. “ _ We'll rendezvous with you back at the shuttle, Rex, try to figure out what to do.” _

Perfect. “Copy that, Commander,” he says, and switches off his wristcomm.

CT-7567 pushes himself to a brisk march, because his targets are on a speeder and he is on foot, so if he is to cut them off he'll have to be in position well before they get back. He climbs in amongst the rock walls that rise high on either side of the road, starts along them parallel with it, watching for a good place for an ambush.

If it comes to it, he can simply lie here and shoot them both as they come down the road - his aim is good enough and he may be fast enough - but he doesn't like the variables in that plan; if he plays his hand too early, if he fails to kill one of them or if he can  _ only _ kill one, they will know his position and know he is the enemy and kill him. He can't fight them directly, not alone.

Ah, but here the walls are loose shale, larger stones balancing precariously on an uneven surface, and it would only take a slight nudge to start a slide, one that may be enough to stop the Jedi in their tracks, even take out their speeder. They trust him, and they will assume the attack is from the Son, and neither of them will be watching for blaster bolts.

He checks his comm for their position; they're getting closer, so he has a limited time to make his plan. The rocks here are loose enough that he thinks he can dislodge them with a good push on the largest of them, which he can see is holding up the rest; if that fails, he can use his blasters (although he'd rather not, that would most likely reveal it was him). When  the slide throws them off balance (and if he's fortunate and it injures them), he'll shoot them both.

So he settles into a crouch behind the rocks and waits, watches their signal on his tracker, feet steady on a lip of rock that he's fairly sure won't collapse with the rest of the shale and debris. His timing has to be  _ perfect _ .

Fortunately, that is something he has always been exemplary at: timing, planning, and at the end of the day, just  _ doing _ what he must, no hesitation. He is a  _ good soldier _ , that's why he's a Captain, why this mission is his job.

He switches off his wristcomm when he begins to hear the whine of a speeder coming down the road, levers the butt of his blaster rifle under the stone he needs to move, and settles into stillness as sure as durasteel. Waits for the Jedi.

Kill the Jedi.

( _ Wait. Wait. Wait. He doesn’t- He- _ )

Good soldiers follow orders.

He hears the speeder before he sees it, the strain of its engines as it banks around a sharp turn in the road, and then he can see them, both Jedi balanced on the same speeder. Both appear uninjured, which is unfortunate - he’d hoped the General would have given him more help on that front. Never mind.

( _ Wait, he has to- this isn’t- kriff he can’t do this, he’s not… _ )

His stomach is tight, battle nerves he has never managed to get rid of. A distraction. He leans, just a little, waits. And they’re close, closer, close enough he can make out the patterns on the female Jedi’s headtails ( _ no _ ), and then his instincts tell him  _ now _ .

It is easier than he thought to set the stone in motion; with a groan like an old, dying thing the rock comes free from the edge of the cliff face, dislodging loose pebbles and shale and larger pieces of stone and then other boulders, all of it a chaos of noise and dust and shaking as CT-7567 balances on his outcropping of anchored stone and waits till he can see his targets again, his rifle set against his shoulder. He is more exposed, now, but he thinks they still won’t be looking for  _ him _ .

~~~

Ahsoka is curled over the speeder’s handlebars, pushing it as fast as it will go (they  _ have _ to find Anakin before he does anything--she doesn’t  _ think _ he would hurt them, but she can’t be sure, not with the Son’s voice in his ear), when the training bond  _ opens _ and pushes past her shields.  _ Remember this, someone, please, I can’t be allowed, this cannot happen, don’t let me become-- _ and it’s  _ Anakin’s voice, _ terrified and desperate, and he  _ feels _ normal, not like the Son has him at all, but… 

_ I promise, Master,  _ she tells him, because he’s scared and vulnerable and he’s  _ begging. _

And then there’s-- _ screaming. _

_ [commander cody, the time has come. execute order sixty-six!] _

_ [younglings, anakin, how could you?] _

_ [you’ve turned her against me!] _

_ [you brought him here!] _

_ [you were my brother, anakin! i loved you!] _

[lightsabers hissing, red and bloody, jedi dying,  _ younglings _ screaming,  _ please help us, master skywalker, _ the tromp of booted feet in perfect unison--one, two, one, two, one, two--and  _ breathing, _ in and out, harsh and hollow, and an empty black mask]

_ [i find your lack of faith… disturbing] _

[an old version of obi-wan kenobi sacrifices his life so that  _ he _ can escape]

_ [no, luke, i am your father] _

_ [the time has come. execute order sixty-six!] _

“Ahsoka!”

Ahsoka jerks back to herself, panting, hands clenched tightly around the speeder’s handles, to see a massive rockfall crashing down in front of them, and she can’t--she can’t-- _ execute order sixty-six _ hums a voice she  _ should _ know but can’t recognize.  _ “Ahsoka!” _

It’s… it’s Master Obi-Wan (she watches him die, killed by-- _ you were my brother, anakin! i loved you!), _ but she can’t--she’s shaking (the younglings scream as they die)--his hands reach over hers (and she flinches, he’s  _ too close) _ and wrap around the speeder’s handles, as best as he can, but it’s too  _ late _ and--and  _ kriff, _ she tries to throw the speeder into a sharp u-turn, but the only thing that happens is the speeder  _ screeches _ and flings its side towards the rocks and Master Obi-Wan shouts,  _ “Jump!” _ but she can’t quite make that  _ work, _ everything aches and her shoulders scream when she tries to brace herself and--and--

And then there’s  _ pain. _

Lights flash multicolored across her vision and she  _ screams, _ instinctive and horrified, curls in on herself but there’s something pinning her to the rocks and she can’t  _ breathe _ and she  _ has to move _ because this  _ must _ mean the Son is--the Son is coming, and opening her eyes makes everything spin and twist dizzily and there’s double vision making her  _ sick _ but she has to get up, she has to  _ move. _

It’s the speeder, pinning her leg to a large rock, and she looks down at her leg and--and the sight of the  _ angle _ it’s twisted at, sharp and  _ wrong, _ a pale thing--a bone?--spearing through the skin sends sharp nausea through her and she barely manages to twist her head away before she’s retching, bile burning like acid up her throat and tears squeezing out her eyes. It hurts it hurts it hurts--

Somehow, she  _ reaches, _ the Force answering her call, and shoves the speeder  _ off, _ and then she drags herself (gasping and crying and moaning, trying to stifle a scream) off the pile of jumbled rocks to the ground, looking wildly around her (even though everything’s spinning and she thinks there’s probably blood on the back of her head) for Master Obi-Wan--lying crumpled in a heap a little ways away, though as she watches he slowly untwists himself from his awkward landing and looks to her--and for the Son, because who else could it be? She scans the tops of the ridges, looking, looking, look--

_ No. _

There’s a splash of--of  _ white, _ white armor, blue, jaig eyes on a helmet,  _ no no no no, _ how can he  _ do this, _ not Rex--so it must be,  _ we can take any form we choose _ so it must be the Son. Has to be. But the Son wouldn’t have a--

_ Shit. _

A blaster rifle. Set to snipe. It’s  _ instinct _ (and pain, it  _ hurts, _ her leg is--no, can’t think about it) to lift a hand and concentrate and  _ wrench _ the rifle out of his hands (whichever  _ him _ it is) so it clatters useless to the rocks somewhere, and then she curls up on herself a bit and presses one hand to the back of her head (her palm comes away bloody, shavit) and shakes.

This  _ can’t be happening. _

~~~

The dust is too thick to see anything for  _ too long _ , and by the time it clears both Jedi are partially sheltered by the rocks - it's going to be a close shot, he'll have to be so precise to actually hit them on the first try. But he's not concerned about it, this is a good blaster and he is a  _ good soldier _ .

Then the Togrutan Jedi’s wild gaze (she's injured, very, it's turned out better than he'd expected) lands on him, and before he can react and take his shot, his rifle is yanked painfully out of his hands and  _ out of his reach _ .

So that option is gone and they know he's here.

But he still has his mission and the female Jedi is hurt, so he has a chance of not failing completely.

He grits his teeth and draws his blaster pistols. The ones he knows he can't make this shot with because the Jedi Master has moved, and because they’re accurate but not for long range like this. Then he swings himself off the stone lip he's been crouched on and half-skids, half-runs on the shale down to level ground. (Part of him notes the Jedi Master igniting his lightsaber as he does.)

This is not a fight he can win, but he levels his blasters at the weaker of the two anyway, who's struggling still to get hold of her own sabers, and ( _ no no he doesn't want to, he can't, someone stop me, please, I can't do this _ ) fires.

The Jedi Master lunges and catches both bolts on his saber, and CT-7567 thinks he sees a hitch in his gait, a weakness, so maybe. But now there's a functional Jedi with a saber to contend with.

_ He shouldn't try this. _

_ Good soldiers follow orders. _

_ Kill the Jedi. _

So he strides forward, shoots at the Jedi Master with one blaster and at the wounded Jedi with the other, and the Master deflects  _ both _ (kriff) and  _ she _ says, desperate, “Rex, it's me, it's  _ Ahsoka _ , please!”

( _ Ahsoka, she's Ahsoka, he can't, he can't- why won't they stop him he can't kill her not his Jedi not Ahsoka please _ .)

He shoots again, and the Jedi barely catches those bolts, but then he  _ pushes _ , and CT-7567 is off his feet, slamming  _ hard _ into the ground. No, he can't fail, because  _ good soldiers follow orders _ and he hasn't obeyed his and they're going to kill him.

A slow soldier is a dead soldier, so he struggles back to his feet, sets his grip on his blasters, and meets the Jedi Master’s eyes in time to realize he's holding his blaster rifle.

Well, then.

He's failed.

The Jedi fires and ‘67 knows nothing else.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keep your eyes out for the next fic in the series, which will be a rewrite of the Citadel arc! we'd love to hear feedback from you :)

Rex crumples to the ground when the stun blast hits him, but Ahsoka can’t _focus_ on that (can’t remember the way he’d just _kept coming,_ kept firing, shooting to kill, he wanted to _kill her,_ oh stars, oh Force), and so she concentrates on--something, anything else, the pain in her head that means _concussion,_ the way Master Obi-Wan is _definitely_ moving weirdly, he’s injured, then, somewhat, probably from that ill-advised _leap_ he made to avoid the speeder crash, and she’s rambling.

But it’s better than thinking about _Rex,_ or about the fact that she can _see her bone,_ or--

“I’m going to have to set your leg, Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan says, crouching down beside her (and there’s two of him, what the _kriff),_ looking very concerned.

She mumbles something slurred in Huttese that makes him wince, saying, “If you learned that from Anakin--”

“Who else?”

“Fair point,” he admits, a ghost of a smile on his face. “Right, I’m sorry for this, but I don’t have any painkillers.”

“I know,” she manages, “but it can’t hurt worse than it already does.” He makes a disbelieving sound. “Right?”

“I need you to hold still,” he says.

Which shouldn’t be a problem. She’s _exhausted_ and everything _hurts_ so much and she’s dizzy--she doesn’t think she _can_ move. “‘Course, Master.”

He nods, and then shifts, moves, and his hands settle just above her leg, and he asks, “Ready?”

She offers him a wan smile. “As I’ll ever be.”

And then the world goes _white._

She can’t _breathe,_ can’t see, her nerves are alight with _agony_ racing through her, sparking over her skin like electricity, like knives carving her to pieces, and she scrabbles desperately for something, _anything,_ to hang on to as she sobs and arches her back and _screams._ (It hurts it hurts it hurts it hurts--) And _please,_ she just--wants it to stop, please make it stop, it _hurts,_ please. “Ahsoka,” someone’s saying, worried, “I _need_ you to try and be _still, please,”_ and she can’t--it _hurts_ and she needs to _get away,_ needs to _move,_ needs to--to--stop or something, please, unconsciousness would be better than this, and--

She’s panting, but she _flings_ herself dimly to one side, rolling _away_ from the pain, away, away, has to _get away,_ please, please stop, please, and she curls up around herself and lets the tears fall hot and thick because it _hurts it hurts it hurts,_ no more, please, she can’t _take it._

~~~

Someone is _screaming_ when Rex wakes up, a choked and broken sound that has him scrambling to his feet before he even remembers where he _is_ . What's _happening_ , where-?

Ahsoka is the one screaming, on the ground with General Kenobi next to her, desperately trying to, to hold her still, it seems, and Rex doesn't _understand_ but he starts towards them just as Kenobi snaps, “ _Captain_ , come help me, _now.”_ The General sounds strained, a little choked himself, and Rex stumbles towards them, digging for memory, for _why_ , and then he sees her _leg_ (twisted and shattered and the bone piercing through her skin) and he _knows_.

Stops, even though Kenobi clearly needs him, has to wrench off his helmet and double over and dry-heave, coughing and choking. _No._ Little gods, no, he needs to- _No._

“Rex! _Now!_ ” Kenobi snaps, and Rex swallows, makes himself straighten and hurry over to kneel by the General (and _gods, gods,_ she's still sobbing and crying, twisted up in a shaking ball).

“What do you need?” he says.

“Hold her down,” the General says, and Rex fights the urge to _choke_ again.

“Okay.” So he takes hold of her shoulder, pushes her flat against the ground ( _I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry)_ and sets his forearm across her chest, splays his other hand over her hip and holds her still. _I'm sorry_.

General Kenobi reaches for her leg again, and Rex sees him hesitate, set his jaw with a soft breath, and then he touches her again and Ahsoka lashes out, wraps her hand vice-like around Rex’s by her shoulder, crying.

“No, no, no, not again, Master Obi-Wan, I don't-” and then she loses coherency to a scream and she _writhes_ against Rex’s hands, and it's so hard to hold her down, she's strong, and he wants to cry except he's choked and drowning and can hardly focus on anything except the points of contact between them and holding her still and hearing her sob.

It lasts for too long, like the space between moments is longer than it should be, like they’re just going to be trapped here with her crying (because her throat is too raw to scream) and struggling weakly against both of them and all this for barely any good and all of it _his fault_ . General Kenobi digs into his pack, while it’s still over his shoulders, and takes the roll of bandages out, uses them to bind the shitty splint he’s making for her leg with Rex’s kriffing _blaster rifle_ , and then. Then he sits back and Ahsoka’s sobbing goes from frantic to wretched, exhausted.

General Kenobi swipes at his eyes, but Rex thinks there are still _tears_ in them when the General turns to him. Rex looks down, at his own knees, forces himself to find _some_ kind of rhythm to breathe to. “What _happened?_ ” Kenobi asks, less accusingly than Rex deserves, more just… horrified.

“I don’t know,” Rex murmurs, throat aching. Ahsoka is still holding onto his hand _so tight_. “I just- I don’t know, sir.”

“My vision,” Ahsoka says weakly, hoarse, and Rex closes his eyes for a second. “It was- It’s the Sith’s plan. They kill all the Jedi, all- Not their fault.”

Kenobi puts his hand on Ahsoka’s shoulder for just a moment, and Rex dares to look up; he thinks the General looks both incredibly _old_ and painfully young at the same time. “Okay, Ahsoka,” he says gently.

“Anakin gave it to me,” insistent, “and he said I can’t let him do it.”

“Okay,” Kenobi says again. “We can discuss it later, Ahsoka. Right now you need to rest.” He eases himself to his feet, and Rex meets his eyes, doesn’t mean to be panicked, is anyway. “I have to go after Anakin. Get yourselves back to the shuttle and _stay there_. Please.” He just sounds scared.

And he turns away and starts _running_ , and Rex thinks that’s a terrible idea but also, also he saw his General’s face, and Skywalker probably needs Kenobi now.

Leaving Rex to help his Jedi, alone, even though he hardly even knows if he can trust himself anymore.

~~~

Master Obi-Wan goes away, leaves her alone with Rex. That’s okay, she thinks vaguely; Rex didn’t shoot at her on purpose. Well, he _did,_ but it wasn’t his fault. It was the chips. She remembers the plan, in the vision, remembers the Dark version of her Master had known. Or had learned? She’s not sure. But _the time has come, execute order sixty-six_ and Cody firing on Obi-Wan and the clones marching on the Temple--

No, she doesn’t want to think about that, she _can’t,_ not right now.

Ahsoka forces herself to relax her grip on Rex’s hand, just a little, because she thinks she’s _hurting_ him and she doesn’t want to do that. Even though her leg still _screams_ and her head aches and throbs in time with her heartbeat. “The--ship,” she manages, after a moment, her throat raw from screaming, and Rex nods. Still won’t quite look at her, which she understands. “Not your fault, Rexter.”

He shrugs. “Sure,” he says, unconvincingly, keeps staring at the ground. And then he shakes himself, swallows conspicuously, says, “Let’s get you back to the ship, Ahsoka.” Slips his arms around her, doing the best he can not to jostle her leg, and lifts her against his chest, standing slowly.

And it _hurts,_ it hurts, it _hurts so much_ and she whimpers because she can’t scream, her throat hurts too much, and there’s a wave of fresh tears and she gulps and clutches at him, his armor, at _something._ “Rex,” she gasps, on a rising note of _pain,_ “please--” and her voice cuts off and she whimpers again.

“I know,” he says quietly, adjusts her so she’s more comfortable (though she can’t be _comfortable_ with this _agony)_ and starts walking forward. “I’m sorry.”

Every step he takes sends pain lancing up through her leg, all the way into her head, and she moans and presses her forehead into his armor, grips the front of his cuirass so, so hard, until her knuckles turn white. It _hurts._

She just wants the pain to _stop._

~~~

Everything is just a blur of awful white noise and barest necessity by the time they get back to the ship, because Rex thinks the only thing stopping him from crumbling, collapsing on himself, being sick and curling up and not moving is that fact that he’s stopped knowing or seeing much of anything except for the path right in front of him. It’s not too long of a walk, but it _feels_ like it is because Ahsoka’s groaning the whole way (or at least he thinks so; he stops listening when they’re almost back to the ship because he starts feeling like he’s going to throw up).

There are bunks on the ship, he reminds himself. He can lay her down, and it will be better. _Please_ let that be better.

And maybe there are painkillers _somewhere_ in there.

He nearly slips on the boarding ramp on the way into the ship, and it isn’t much of a stumble but it still drags another harsh whimper out of her. “I’m sorry,” he says, wearily, shuffles over to one of the bunks and so, so slowly sets her down. When her leg touches the mattress she moans, fingers tightening so much on his cuirass he almost thinks it’s going to crack. “Sorry,” he says again, waits until the spasm passes and he can gently tug her fingers away from his armor. “I”m going to try to find you some pain meds, okay?” he says, even though she’s grabbed onto his hand again. “Ahsoka, please- I need to try to do that.”

There’s got to be _something_ on this damn piece of scrap that will help.

He pries his hand free from hers, pads across the cabin to start checking the storage compartments. Everything is suddenly so still and quiet (except for Ahsoka’s ragged breathing) and he tries to be just as still. That’s harder when he doesn’t find anything medically helpful, not even another roll of bandages. Maybe there’s just nothing back here, he can look in the cockpit, maybe something so important would be kept there, he doesn’t know.

He wanders to the front of the ship, hears her calling after him, faint, “Rex.” But he’ll be back, he just… he has to get something to help first.

He digs through what few more compartments are up here, checks the emergency kit (but the emergency kit isn’t for medicine, it’s just water purifiers and a flare and firestarters and nothing he can use), goes through everything again just in case.

But there’s nothing. And he slumps into one of the seats, drops his head into his hands, tries to just… breathe, but he’s so shaky. There’s no medicine here and she’s in pain and Kix is gone and Rex can’t _help_ . And worst of all, he did this to begin with, he hurt her and he tried to kill them and whether it was _his fault_ or not, he’s still the one who remembers it, still the one who did it, so what does it really _matter?_

He runs his hand across the top of a row of equipment, swiping dust onto his fingers, even that sound loud. And slams his fist into the same equipment with the heavy crack of plastoid on durasteel, lets out a strangled half-sob. There’s too much and he hurts and there is no _fixing_ this, just living with it. And it _hurts_ too _much_ , he doesn’t know- he _can’t_.

~~~

Everything hurts.

Ahsoka can barely breathe, her throat hurts too much, bruised and bloody and broken, from screams and choking and everything. Speaking is even _worse,_ everything’s rough and raw and scraping, her barely-there whimpers like shattered glass, like nails on a chalkboard, sharp and screeching.

She wants, _needs,_ her Rex.

But he left, he went somewhere, the cockpit she thinks, and she thinks he _was_ looking for medicine, painkillers (please, oh, please), but then there’s the _crack_ of plastoid slamming into durasteel and a strangled noise, a swear, and she thinks maybe humans with their inferior hearing wouldn’t pick up on the crescendo of _guilt_ and _horror,_ but she’s _Togrutan._ Her montrals are sensitive and sharp.

She wants Rex.

He needs her, she thinks.

“Rex,” she tries, faintly, but it _aches_ and she doesn’t think he can hear her, so she swallows hard and tries again, louder. _“Rex,”_ and that’s better, there’s a moment of silence and then he comes back into her field of vision, won’t quite look at her.

“What do you need?” he asks, lowly, and she struggles to push herself up on her elbow before _swearing_ because _ow ow ow_ that jostles her leg and that _hurts._

She should not do that.

But somehow she manages to scoot herself back on the bunk, so that there’s enough room for Rex to fit if he were to lay down, and she whispers, “C’mere.” A breath, ragged and gasping. “Not your--fault. It’s okay, I forgive you, please come here.”

“You shouldn’t trust me,” he tells her.

She half-shrugs a shoulder. “Too bad.” Ow. Talking hurts. She pats the empty space, invitingly.

He protests again, but not much, and then he sighs, starts to sit down before frowning distantly and making quick work of stripping off his armor and boots, sitting down. She reaches up, presses on his shoulder until he lays down, facing her, and then she (carefully, because moving _hurts)_ adjusts his position so she can draw his head to rest against her shoulder. One arm wraps tight around his chest, her hand tracing absent patterns on his side, and the other hand slips (entirely accidentally) into his hair. He seems to react--she _thinks_ positively to that, because he lets out a shuddering sigh that shifts into something like a sob (which is good, he needs to cry, she thinks), so she cards her fingers through the short golden strands, soothing and slow.

“‘M here, Rex,” she whispers, faint, tilts her head closer to his and closes her eyes, soaks in the feeling of _him._ Of safety, of warmth, of comfort. “I’ve got you.” It’s not what she wants to say. “I,” but talking _hurts_ and she sighs, swallows a little. “Always trust you, my Rex. Always.”

~~~

He's too tired to stop crying, too tired to try to control it, and he doesn’t understand why she’s so _close_ , and so gentle, and pressing her fingers into his hair like he’s… like he’s something important when he- he’s hurt her, she was _screaming_ , he pulls away from her and he doesn’t let her be close and he tried to _kill her_ and yet. Here she is. _I always trust you_ . Why? How? He hasn’t earned that; he’s failed her so badly, so _completely_. He let the Son take her and twist her, and now he ruined her leg and terrified her when she’s said he makes her feel safe.

She’s just… she’s holding him so tight but so gentle, tracing her fingers back and forth in swooping patterns on his ribs, and the other hand cradles his head, and he can’t hide it from her, how he sobs into her shoulder and shakes and _hurts_ , but she doesn’t… doesn’t let go. And he burns, and he has to let some of it out, the ripping sobs that he normally keeps too buried because they _hurt_ , tear at his chest.

“I’m sorry, ‘Soka, I’m so sorry, I didn’t- I’m sorry,” he chokes, against her shoulder, “I didn’t want to, I didn’t, it just- I couldn’t-” He can’t get enough breath to keep talking so he just reaches up, catches the hand that’s in his hair and hangs onto it, too tight maybe, closes his eyes against another heavy, choking sob.

“‘s okay, Rexter, I know. I trust you anyway.” He feels her press a _kiss_ light, gentle against his forehead, and it’s, it’s, too much.

Too _kind_ , he doesn’t- He tightens his fingers around her hand because he doesn’t _understand_ , she- she can’t, she shouldn’t, he can’t even trust _himself_ and she trusts him? Is still so soft even though he _knows_ her leg is hurting her because he can feel it, because she winces whenever she moves too much. And then she presses even closer to him, shifts so she’s almost curled around his taller frame, _his Jedi_ , too close and too warm and too trusting and it _aches_ , deep where he can’t get rid of it, and he _has_ her, she’s right here, he - warm and close and just his for a moment, this thought - he loves her, his Jedi. His Ahsoka.

He shifts one arm loose around her, clings to the comfort of it all until he’s not sobbing so much anymore and he can settle, be still, _breathe_ a little.

~~~

She’s _safe._

When Rex puts his arm around her, Ahsoka curls more around him, even though it _hurts,_ even though her leg is screaming, because he’s _here_ and she never thought--she didn’t--there’s no _way,_ especially after him pulling back earlier, but. But here he is and… and he’s not _pulling back_ this time, he’s staying.

He’s _staying._

She tightens her arms around him, presses another soft kiss to his forehead (revels in the feel of it all), and then shifts so she can press her forehead against his. _Kriff,_ she--trusts him, wants him, needs him. There’s something so _soothing,_ so calm and soft, about the… the _intimacy_ of this moment, of his arm around her and his forehead against hers, and she--she tries not to notice that if she just… shifted, just a little, she could kiss him.

His breathing slows, drifts more and more into that steady rhythm that means _sleep,_ and she has to almost cross her eyes to do it, but she looks at him without pulling away. Those fierce, intense golden eyes she--likes so much are closed, and this close she can see he has long black eyelashes, and she untangles the hand that’s around his chest so she can ghost her fingertips over his face, over the lines of his cheekbones and forehead, the bridge of his nose, his _eyebrows_ (which are so fascinating, hair that _makes expressions,_ humans are weird--but she likes them, they’re very pretty. especially this one). Greatly daring, she trails her fingers down to his jawline, which she has not-so-subtly been admiring for _years,_ lets herself feel, touch, _explore._ He’s asleep, after all. He won’t know.

And if he doesn’t know, it’s okay, to let herself have this. To let herself-- _a Jedi shall never know love--_ to let herself… kark it. “I’ve never been a very good Jedi,” she breathes, hoarse and soft, sighs a little. “‘S why I was an Initiate at fourteen, nobody wanted me. So I guess… ‘s not so surprising that I mess this part up too.” She brings her hand over, runs her fingers _very lightly_ across his lips, sighs, amused. _“A Jedi shall never know love,”_ she quotes, wryly, cups his cheek again, thankful beyond belief that he’s asleep. “Guess I was doomed from the first time I saw you, y’know. When you said _experience outranks everything._ I was _determined_ to prove to you that I could do it. I should’ve known I’d fall in love with you,” and she sighs, closes her eyes again, leans a bit more into his forehead, returns her arm to around his chest. “Kriff,” she whispers, faintly, opens her eyes again. Leans forward just that extra inch or so and presses her lips to his, very very gently.

And then she sighs and repositions herself so she can tuck her head beneath his chin (and one of his hands shifts and curves over her headtails, and she shivers and leans into the touch), tightens her arm around him and lets the exhaustion carry her away.

~~~

Everything is so wonderfully drowsy and comfortable, and Rex is so close to sleep, that at first he pays no mind at all to the light touches on his face: forehead and nose and cheeks. It’s soothing, almost, nice. Then he realizes that, by necessity, the wandering fingers must belong to a person, and he is suddenly much more awake (but has the sense not to move). It is _Ahsoka_ who’s touching him like that, fingers pressing along his jawline, and his heart is suddenly pounding, and it is effort to keep to the same steady, slow breathing. If he just, doesn’t move, maybe she’ll just stop after a bit. (He doesn’t understand why it feels like she wants to _learn_ his face, what’s there to know, he’s got the same face as the entirety of the GAR.)

And then she starts _talking_ , light and amused and almost to herself, and he doesn’t know what to do, because he’s _asleep_ and he doesn’t want to go away but he doesn’t like where she’s going with this- and her fingers catch lightly on his lips and _kriff, kriff,_ what does he _do?_ ( _Because he wants her, and he loves her, and right now this is okay, this is nice_.)

“I should’ve known I’d fall in love with you.”

Oh no. Deep breaths, he’s asleep, he didn’t hear _any_ of that. _I love you too, damn you_.

And then she presses closer, and for a moment he thinks she’s finally just going to be still, only then there’s a touch feather-light and tingling against his lips and it takes him a moment to understand that’s she’s- that she’s _kissed him_.

Oh no. Maybe he’s just dreaming, maybe it’s not real- but he’s certainly not going to open his eyes and try to find out. He shifts a little, feels her snuggle in against his chest and press her face against his collarbone, and he’s asleep, so he can let his hand drift up to her back headtail (he’s been curious about the texture but that hardly seemed like a thing to ask about; it turns out they’re smooth and cool, a little like snakeskin but not so scaly), and he tugs her in closer.

She forgives him, she doesn’t hate him, she still wants to be _close_ when he- when he- never mind. He is tired, and he doesn’t want to _think_ (because this isn’t allowed, he did a horrible thing, so much has gone wrong), and if he sleeps he will deal with both of those problems. So for now, he pushes everything down into a private corner of his mind where he can look at it later (or perhaps not) and sinks back into the comforting rhythms of sleep.

…

When Rex wakes up, he is… he is _smaller_ . Everything feels, _finally_ , like it’s not pressing in on him - he thinks it’s almost the first time since they landed on the planet that he doesn’t have a headache, and he’s forgotten how _wonderful_ that is. Everything else still does hurt, but that’s going to be fine, probably.

He still has his hand on Ahsoka’s headtail, and he quickly pulls it away, because he can hear his Generals talking and they probably saw. _Kriff_.

His Generals. Skywalker. Is he okay now? Rex quickly swings his legs out of the bunk (and his ribs and back protest, shoulder too), and goes to stand, except Ahsoka suddenly catches his wrist, the still-injured one, and he looks up to meet her bleary gaze. “Don’t go,” she says, her voice almost just a scratch in her throat.

“I’ll be back,” he says easily. She looks at him a second, then pulls her arm back, and he smiles at her a little before going up to the cockpit.

And the viewscreen shows _space_ , a fleet, and General Kenobi and General Skywalker are sitting in their seats like nothing has happened, talking to his _ori’vod_.

“What do you mean, a few days?” Cody is saying, and Rex walks up to lean against both their chairs (does not look at General Skywalker). “ _Vod_ ,” Cody says, sounds surprised. Rex smiles tiredly. “You look like utter _shit_. What’d you do, get trampled by a herd of rancor?”

“I wish,” Rex says dryly. “Tell you about it when we’re back, Commander.”

Cody gives him a look that means _yes you kriffing will_ , turns his attention back to Kenobi. “Come on back whenever you’re ready, sir.”

Rex snorts a little, waits until the holocomm shuts off and Skywalker starts them toward the fleet to ask, “How long have I been asleep, sirs?”

General Skywalker snorts. “Not as long as you think, Rex. The Father and the Son are dead, and we just sort of appeared back here.”

The Son is dead. That’s good. Rex sighs, rubs his face, and leaves the cockpit again without wasting anymore words on something that has happened but that he’d rather not think about.

At least his General is okay now. (Is he?)

He sits lightly on the edge of Ahsoka’s bunk, thinks she might be asleep again. He’s glad they’re almost home, glad he can’t feel the Force anymore (it’s like taking several long steps back from a too-hot furnace), glad all that is _over_.

~~~

Ahsoka wants to be _asleep._

Everything _hurts,_ her leg especially, and though she can feel the Light again now (which is nice, she thinks maybe Master Obi-Wan will be able to do some healing for her now, too), there’s nothing particularly _interesting_ about being awake. It just is all pain and a rasp in her throat and _exhaustion._

Except that Rex left, got up to go see something, and so she has to be awake. She has to make sure he comes back. He needs to come back. She _wants him._

It’s a couple minutes before he does, but finally he comes trooping back over to the bunk, scrubbing a hand over his face, looking tired but relieved. She flicks her eyes open long enough to see this (though she notices he’s not looking when she does), closes them before he settles down on the edge of the bunk with a tired sigh.

“C’mere,” she tries to say, but it comes out as a barely audible croak, and she swallows, forces out, “water?”

“Hang on, Ahsoka,” he says, fumbles with the pile of his armor and produces a canteen. Sits back down on the bunk beside her, slips one arm behind her shoulders and helps prop her up, handing her the canteen.

Her hands are shaking so badly she almost can’t get it to her lips, but she manages, leans heavy into Rex’s arm and swallows the water. It feels _good,_ cool and heavenly on her torn throat, and she lets out a long, slow breath, lets herself tilt sideways until she’s slumping into Rex’s shoulder. “‘M sleepy,” she mumbles, flicks her gaze drowsily up to his (beautiful) intense golden eyes. “Stay?”

~~~

Rex sighs, taking back his canteen, and smiles at her and her sleepy staring at him. _Stay_. For how long?

“Yeah, sure,” he says. She's heavy against his arm, sleepy and slow and sweet, and he wishes any of this made more sense. Seeing Cody, being so close to everything being _normal_ again, has jarred him into a painful state of awareness that none of this can last.

“ _Ori’vod_ ,” Cody has told him, more than once, “You can't do this to yourself.”

And Rex _knows_ that. He knows, he knows, he knows, that Ahsoka - Jedi Padawan, Commander - is not his, and can't be, and that it's a mistake to pretend. That letting her curl against him right now is a mistake because he won't _ever_ forget it. And yet here he is, letting her hold onto him, and partly he does owe this to her because he _hurt her_ , because she was so… so gentle with him, before, but partly, partly he is a stupid, selfish _di’kut_ that can't just- do what he needs to.

They sit like that for a moment, Rex just trying to make his thoughts stop circling, Ahsoka having almost dozed off again, when there’s a settling, grinding jolt as the ship sets down, presumably inside the _Negotiator_ , and Ahsoka grabs onto his forearm and lets out a shaking, shattered cry.

“Sorry,” Rex says, leaning over and kissing her forehead (and he doesn't mean it like _goodbye_ , just comfort, but it's goodbye also, because sooner or later every dream ends and it's time to wake up). “Kix will take care of that soon, Ahsoka.” Kix will be so _worried_ , and upset that he wasn't there.

And Rex still doesn't know what's _wrong with him_ , why he attacked his Commander, why the nightmares ( _good soldiers follow orders_ ) came true.

~~~

Kix had insisted on being in the medbay on the _Negotiator_ when the strike team got back, just in case, even though they’d only been gone for a few seconds (at least, according to Cody’s perspective). It’s not that he doesn’t trust Scratch, the 212th’s senior medic, to take care of his Generals and his Commander and his Captain, but… he’d just rather be there. Himself. Just in case.

It turns out he was right.

Generals Skywalker and Kenobi leave the shuttle first, and Kix can tell by the way Kenobi is walking that there’s something wrong, a wrenched hip, torn muscles or tendons maybe. He’ll let Scratch worry about trying to get Kenobi to actually admit to even being in pain, though. Skywalker looks, surprisingly, fine, and Kix starts to let his guard down, except--

Except then Rex steps onto the shuttle’s ramp, and in his arms he’s got--kriffing _Commander Tano,_ curled tightly against Rex’s chest and clinging to the front of his cuirass, and her leg--

Oh, little _gods._

“What in the karking _hells?”_ Kix snaps, takes a few rushed steps over to the two of them. There’s a bloody puncture wound in her thigh where the bones of her leg stabbed _through the skin,_ and though there’s a shitty splint (made from a blaster rifle and some _bandages,_ kriffing hells), he can tell the set is poorly done. “Little _gods,_ sir, what did you _do?”_

Commander Tano tilts her face just enough that she can see him, eyes bleary and blurred. “Speeder crash,” she mumbles, hides her face again. “Hurts.”

“There aren’t any painkillers on that useless ship,” Rex says, quietly, and Kix sighs. Nods.

“Give her here, Captain, and get your armor back, and then I want to see you in the medbay _stat._ _Tayli’bac?”_

“I’m not--”

Commander Tano cuts him off. “He got thrown into a wall,” she says, surprisingly clearly. Rex scowls at her.

Kix snorts. “Of course he did. Right, I _definitely_ want you in the medbay.” Kriffing Captain never admits to being _kadala,_ karking hells. “How did you manage this in literally two seconds, Commander?”

“It’s been a long few days, Kix,” Skywalker says dryly, sounds exhausted. Which doesn’t make _sense._

(Except it does, somewhere deep in his mind, back behind all the walls he’s constructed, to never let anything slip through save the barest breath of instincts. And those instincts are _screaming,_ right now, saying that something _horrible_ has happened, and also that the future of the entire galaxy is at stake, that something has _changed_ irrevocably in the web of the worlds--and he’s not sure what that _means,_ but it’s too pressing, too _important,_ to be ignored.)

Kix sighs, shakes his head, carefully pulls Commander Tano against his chest. She whimpers, painfully raw, and doesn’t let go of Rex. Which is a problem. Rex carefully dislodges her hand, says, “Kix has you now, sir. You’re safe.”

“Rex--” she tries, but Rex gives Kix a Look, one of the ones that means _get going,_ and the medic isn’t going to argue with his Captain, so he does. And _moving_ makes the Commander whimper again, her throat too raw to scream, and he swears under his breath because _not good not good not good._

Kix is paying enough attention to his surroundings to see Cody giving Rex his own _look,_ but that’s really not important right now. What’s important is that the Commander is in _severe_ pain and has one of the worst breaks in her leg that he’s ever _seen,_ and she’s going to need it to be reset (and thank the little gods he has anesthesia--he’s got a feeling they had to set her leg the first time without _any_ meds at all). Hopefully the break is recent enough it hasn’t start healing or he’ll have to _rebreak it,_ which is the _last_ thing he wants to do.

“Kenobi,” he snaps out, sharp and desperate, “I need you with me _now,_ sir. If we don’t get some healing on this leg it might not mend right.”

“I’m on my way, Kix,” the General says, and Kix nods, starts for the medbay as fast as he can go without overly jostling Commander Tano’s leg.

This is going to be _hard._

~~~

As soon as Ahsoka is safely on her way to the medbay, Cody comes over, catches Rex’s shoulder (and Rex winces, because that shoulder is still wrenched just a little _not right_ ), tugs him off to one side. “ _Ori’vod_ ,” Cody says seriously, “Rex, what happened to all of you?”

“I don't even kriffing _know,_ ” Rex answers, roughly. He's _missed_ his _vode_ , especially Cody. “I… _Kriff_ , Cody, I- I hurt her, the speeder accident was all my fault - I _planned_ it, and I don't know _why_.”

Cody scowls, gives him a quick once-over. “You've gotta be kidding me, Rex. You wanna clarify what that _means_?”

“I don't _know_ ,” Rex says, because he needs his _ori’vod_ to understand, at least, his best and oldest friend. “Something came over me, I- there was a Sith, on the planet, and General Skywalker… I don't know, Cody, the Sith did something to me and I tried to kill Ahs- Commander Tano and your General.”

He doesn't look at Cody, because Cody’s General is hurt because of him, and he's terrified, and- and “It was the nightmare, _vod_. Just like it.”

He _almost_ flinches again when Cody puts an arm around him and tugs him into a hug, but controls it this time. “Kriff, _ori’vod_ , we have a lot to talk about.”

That's true.

“Like-” Cody pulls back, gives him a wry, nearly-disappointed look. “What happened with the Commander, Rex?”

_Fingers in his hair, a small form curled against him, arms around his waist, hand wrapped tight around his, light touches on his face, a kiss, smiles, “falling in love with you,” gentle forgiveness, pain, happiness._

“Nothing,” he says defensively. “I'm not an idiot, Cody.”

“ _Vod_ ,” sighs Cody, “Banthashit.”

Rex crosses his arms, shakes his head. “I didn't- She needed me, there, and I did my best.” He doesn't even know what he means.

Cody tugs him back into a hug, and Rex doesn't fight it, just swallows and closes his eyes. “ _Ori’vod,_ you know how it has to be.”

“Yeah, I karking know it,” Rex says harshly. _But I hate it._

“Go get your shit, and then let Kix look at you.” Cody lets go of him with a twisted little smile, and goes after General Kenobi and Scratch. And Rex turns to get his pack and remaining armor off the ship, tells himself that Ahsoka doesn't need him anymore, now that Kix is here to fix her and they're safe.

~~~

Ahsoka spends much of the next couple days unconscious, which is a mercy. Between needing her leg reset, hours upon hours of complex healing, and time spent in a bacta tank, everything _hurts_ too much. She doesn’t want to be awake.

It’s on the fourth day, as they’re approaching Coruscant, that she finally finds herself awake and coherent enough to ask the question she _really_ wants to know the answer to. “Has Rex been by?”

Her voice is raspy and weak, but it still makes Kix pause whatever he’s doing with her leg (and he’s turned up the painkillers _plus_ given her a shot of something that numbed her whole broken leg, so right now _pain_ is a far-distant memory). “No, sir,” he says, carefully. “I believe he’s been with the Generals, debriefing, since I released him from the medbay.”

She blinks, shocked and a bit hurt. “He hasn’t come to see me?” And maybe she’s a _child,_ still, but he’d kissed her forehead and held her close and she--she _wants him._

Kix shrugs a little, shakes his head. “Sorry, sir.”

“Can you… tell him I asked him to come?” she tries.

The medic sighs. “Yeah, sure, Commander.”

Rex doesn’t come.

He’s not there when she’s transferred from the _Negotiator’s_ medbay to the Temple, even though she’s _specifically requested_ him as one of her guards; Fives and Echo are there, and it’s Fives who tells her, “He’s busy doing reports, sir.” Which she doesn’t really believe, not for one second.

It’s not until a full week after Mortis that she sees him again.

She’s just woken up from sedation after another round of difficult, detailed Force-healing when Rex and Cody both walk up to her bunk. They’re in armor but with their buckets clipped to their belts, and both with shaved heads and bandages on their temples. Which _surprises_ her--she’d only told the Council (all of them gathered awkwardly around her bunk) about the vision (the relevant parts), the clones and the chips and the Sith’s plan, two days ago. Of course she probably should’ve _expected_ that Cody and Rex would be among the first ones to get the surgery done.

She beams up at Rex, even though a part of her is _hurt_ he’s waited this long to come see her, says, “Heya, Rexter,” and then she eyes his head critically, frowns. “Dammit, I _liked_ your hair, it’s nice,” and then, quieter (though she thinks they can probably still hear her), “it was pretty.”

~~~

Rex shrugs awkwardly, smiling back at his Commander and pretending he doesn't see the dubious expression on Cody’s face. “I liked it too,” he says wryly. Avoids the other part. “Not too big on surgery in general.”

“Don't complain, Rex, you didn't even have that much hair to shave off,” Kix calls, from a short ways away where he's putting away his tools. “You'll have it back in a day or two.”

That's true. Still. It's annoying.

“I'm glad you're here, Rex,” she tells him, and it twists something up in his stomach.

“Yeah,” he says, looking down. “I'm sorry I couldn't make it to see you before. I've had a lot to do.” Gods, he should just keep his mouth shut. He can practically _feel_ Cody’s frustration with him, although that may just be because that was a shitty-sounding apology.

“It's okay,” she says, still smiling, if not quite as brightly. “You're here now.”

Rex is grateful Cody’s here; it _hurts_ , when she says that, and he doesn’t know what to do other than shrug and nod and say, “Yeah.” Partly, he regrets coming, because he thinks he’s only making everything worse and he _knows_ he doesn’t seem willing to talk to her. Partly he knows he couldn’t have stayed away that long, not _really_ . Not when he hurt her and they just went through so much (and she’d trusted him and told him about the Son and he- he doesn’t know what he’s doing, at all, how can he keep her trust without it being _too much?_ And Cody had been no help, had just bought him another drink with a resigned shrug like he knew it was all _shit_ ). “If you need anything, Commander, you have my comm frequency,” he says, proud of how steady he sounds. He debates with himself for just a second, then grabs a plastoid chair and sets it down by the bunk, takes a seat, and turns on his datapad (which he’s been keeping with him, because with the chip surgeries going on he has a lot to sign and keep track of and it’s easier to do it on the move).

“How are the chip surgeries going?” she asks. “Do you know how many battalions are left to do?”

“Not quite sure,” Rex answers. The whole thing’s been frantic, because the second they _knew_ that there were… were _things_ in their head that someone (no one knew who) had put there, _everyone_ wanted it fixed. “The 501st and the 212th are all clear. The 104th. All the systems close to Coruscant are in progress, I think - it’s the battalions in the Outer Rim I haven’t heard about.”

She’s safe from him now, from that threat, from whatever _caused_ it. It feels better.

“That’s good,” she says, and he looks up, meets her ( _blue, blue, soft_ ) eyes, gives her a small smile.

“Yeah, it’s kriffing _great_ ,” he says. Snorts, looks down. “You should be able to avoid any more speeder accidents, at least.”

~~~

Ahsoka smiles warmly at him (he’s _here,_ he’s here, he didn’t leave), reaches out and puts her hand on his knee--except he not-quite flinches, pulls his knee away from her hand, and she frowns a little. Tries not to, but she can’t really help it--she doesn’t _understand._ Why would he pull away _now,_ when the whole time on Mortis he was--mostly okay? Mostly okay with her being _close,_ with her being… stupid, she guesses. _Kriff._

She pulls her hand back to the bunk, tries to pretend she _meant_ to do that, tries to keep it casual, like she hadn’t just--like her heart isn’t _twisting_ from the stinging pain of _rejection._

She swallows a little, looks around awkwardly, says, “Kix thinks I’ll be able to get out of bed on a wheelchair in the next couple of days, which’ll be nice.”

“Yeah, that’ll be good,” Rex says, smiles hesitantly at her--she returns it, equally tentative.

Cody runs his hands down his bracers, says, “Rex, we need to go inventory the armory.”

She doesn’t want him to go.

“Yeah, one sec, _vod,”_ Rex says, though he pushes himself to his feet (she _doesn’t want him to go)._ “Are you okay, Commander?”

She swallows, nods. “I think so, yeah. I’ll be okay.”

He nods. “Good.”

And then he--he turns, and he _goes,_ and leaves and, and he still won’t meet her eyes.

She feels _sick._

~~~

It keeps going like that. Rex tries to be everything he has to, soldier and Captain and friend, but it's all out of place, and he thinks every time he goes to see Commander Tano in the medbay he confuses her. But if he _didn't_ go, he'd hurt her.

And he doesn't like his other options, either.

Cody is supportive, but Cody is gone after not too long and then it's just Rex, trying to navigate without his _ori’vod_ or training to help him, just his own fumbling efforts.

Soon enough, it proves to be too hard, the awkwardness, so he pulls back into hard-as-steel professionalism, the safest, stillest way he knows, where he is what he is _supposed_ to be and that's _all._ Shoves all the thoughts about her eyes far down next to the memories of her clinging onto him like a lifeline. Tries not to pay attention to how increasingly confused and hurt Commander Tano seems.

This is just how it has to be, he _knows that_. No Commander Tano, no being close, none of it. The only time she gets him to sit down and talk again is when she brings up Mortis, but the rest of the time he evades her.

He is a clone, he's not even allowed to _want this_. And she's a Jedi Padawan, and he knows that means she is not allowed to be distracted.

So he cannot have her, and it is useless, childish, stupid to pretend that they will ever be anything but what they are.

_Fin_


End file.
